Truth
by Taaroko
Summary: Guy/Marian AU. Robin failed to get the necklace to Marian in time for her to use it to convince Guy of her innocence in "Brothers in Arms". Picks up at the end of Marian's speech to Guy about truth, and obviously veers off sharply from canon after that. Enjoy and review!
1. Without the Necklace

**Title:** Truth  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG**  
><strong>**Pairings:** Guy/Marian  
><strong>Beta:<strong> LadyKate (who is awesome and really helped me pin down the voices of these characters).  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Robin failed to get the necklace to Marian in time for her to use it to convince Guy of her innocence in "Brothers in Arms". Picks up at the end of Marian's speech to Guy about truth, and obviously veers off sharply from canon after that.  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Spoilers through "Brothers in Arms", though I'm also using the backstory given in the S3 episode "Bad Blood".  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>_Robin Hood_ isn't mine. If it was, the clothing would have been accurate to the time period.  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Okay, so, I was rewatching the series to help me straighten out all the facts the show gives us about the characters so that I wouldn't get anything wrong in "Three Years, Four Winters", but when I got to the episode "Brothers in Arms", an entirely new fic idea seized me. I do plan to continue "Three Years, Four Winters", but now there's this one as well. Enjoy!

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><p>Chapter I: Without the Necklace<p>

"And if you really want to know the truth…," said Marian, turning to face Guy, who sat on the corner of her bed, staring at the floor, "…then you should know that I despise the Sheriff." At her words, he looked up slightly, but not enough to meet her eyes, his expression so full of bitterness that it seemed he could not bring himself to do so.

"Before Lord Vaisey came here, I did not know so much vileness and cruelty could exist in one man," she went on, emboldened when Guy showed no sign of interrupting. "It is as if the devil himself has control of Nottingham. He finds amusement in tormenting the people he is supposed to protect. He doesn't care for their well-being or happiness in the slightest, and takes every opportunity to crush their spirits. He would squeeze every last coin or valuable they possess out of them and watch them starve without batting an eye. He is driving this shire to ruin."

Her voice shook now, both with the force of her conviction and with the emotions surging out of control in her breast. Her vision blurred with tears. And still, Guy did not move. "How can you expect any feeling human being to be loyal to such a man? Do you think I am the sort of woman who could look on the suffering in Nottingham with indifference? These were my father's people, and I love them! I have worn a mask in the Sheriff's presence these last five years only because there was never any other choice if I still wanted to be able to help them at all."

She took a moment to attempt to steady her breathing, before finishing in a much calmer, quieter voice: "The Sheriff is the only man against whom I intended to act. I have never had any desire to hurt you, Sir Guy, but you are on his side." She was startled by how hopeless it made her feel to speak those last few words.

"The necklace," said Guy, his tone completely flat. "What really happened?"

Marian was surprised; she'd been expecting him to address what she'd just said. There was no point in lying to him anymore—she was a dead woman anyway. "I was riding through Sherwood when Robin Hood stepped in front of my horse. He told me he recognized the necklace as one he had seen around the neck of a girl from Locksley and demanded to know how I came to be wearing it. I told him you had given it to me. He said you had stolen it from the girl. I could not keep it."

"I did not steal it!" said Guy with an indignant scowl. "It was the price of my consent and blessing for her marriage."

Past caring if she offended him with her bluntness, Marian fixed him with a cold glare. "What need did you have of a peasant girl's necklace, Sir Guy? You have wealth enough, yet that was likely the only treasure she possessed. Why did she have to sacrifice it in order to obtain what you should have offered freely?"

"You presume to question the way I conduct the affairs of my estate?" said Guy, his lip curling and his eyes meeting hers for the first time since she had turned to face him again.

"Yes, I do!" she cried heatedly. "If you cannot show mercy and kindness to the people in your power, then you are no better than the Sheriff! They have done nothing to deserve your contempt!"

"You know nothing of what they have done!" said Guy, suddenly back on his feet and towering over her.

"What, stolen the occasional sack of grain when they were starving?" said Marian scornfully, refusing to let him intimidate her.

"No," said Guy. "I would not expect you to remember. You were only a small child at the time."

"What are you talking about?" asked Marian, feeling an odd sense of foreboding.

"The land that now comprises Locksley," he said. "It was not always a single estate. On the ground where an inn now stands, there once stood Gisborne Manor."

Marian's eyes widened and she let out a gasp. "But if that was your family's land, why is it now part of Locksley?" she said, confused. "Why did you not inherit it?"

Guy turned away with a snort of disgust. "You think these things are simple. That the world is just and people are good. Perhaps you should ask your former betrothed why I was denied my inheritance, since you're clearly still on such good terms with him."

Marian's mind reeled at the implications of what he had said. She wondered what could possibly have happened when she was a child to deprive Guy of his family's lands. Whatever it was, he obviously held Robin responsible in some way. She burned with an odd combination of curiosity and a fear of what she might discover about both men if she pursued it, but Guy had strode to the other side of the room, his arms crossed, clearly not about to answer any questions about his past.

"Something you said earlier," he muttered, more to himself than to her. He pinched the bridge of is nose and closed his eyes. "A mask. You spoke of wearing a mask." His eyes snapped back open. Having already resigned herself to her fate, Marian was not nearly as troubled by the direction in which his thoughts seemed to be heading as she might have been, but it was still unsettling that he was able to make the connection. "Roll back your left sleeve," he ordered.

Slowly, without taking her eyes off him, she drew the material up until the mostly healed scar on her forearm was bared to his view. He stared at what remained of the wound he had inflicted for a long moment. His eyes flashed with anger at first, but that emotion soon died away as his mouth twisted in that same bitter grimace he had worn before.

"All the signs have been right in front of me all along," he said softly, "but I didn't want to believe you could be the Nightwatchman, so I convinced myself the very idea was absurd."

"Absurd, perhaps," said Marian, letting her sleeve drop again, "but true."

Guy raked a hand through his hair in frustration. "Then you _have _been working with Hood."

Marian snorted contemptuously. "The Nightwatchman is _not _one of his men. Robin and I may share a hatred of the Sheriff and a desire to end the suffering of the people, but he is a reckless fool. He goads the Sheriff unnecessarily, provoking him into further acts of cruelty than the ones to which he is already prone. I fear that his arrogance will cause him to do more harm than good in the end. In three years as the Nightwatchman, no one has been hanged or had his tongue cut out because of me. It has been but a few short months since Robin returned, and already he cannot make that claim."

"I do not think you can make it either, my lady," said Guy, his expression dark and his voice cold. "Not anymore. Or have you forgotten the innocent man I had tortured and killed yesterday when I believed _him _the spy?"

His words struck her like a physical blow. She closed her eyes and felt fresh tears slide down her cheeks. "I have not forgotten," she said quietly. "I'm sure I never will."

"So is that all of it, then, or have you another revelation for me?"

"No, Sir Guy," she said. "I have no secrets from you now, though I would make one request: whatever you do to me, leave my father in peace. He has never approved of my actions, but I gave him little choice but to accept them."

There was a long silence during which Guy leaned against the wall, arms folded against his chest, while Marian turned to face the window again, staring at the scenery outside without really seeing it. She felt numb and disoriented. So much for Robin's promise to bring the necklace in time to save her. After a full minute had passed in this manner, Marian began to expect that Guy would leave in order to relay her confessions to the Sheriff. She was on the verge of checking to see if he was still there when he spoke.

"I have no desire to see you executed, Marian."

"Then I suggest you retire to Locksley for the next few days," she said dryly.

A loud bang caused her to jump and whirl around. It seemed that Guy had slammed his gloved fist against the wall, but he already appeared to be winning the struggle to regain his composure, even if he still wouldn't face her. "You misunderstand me," he said. "What if…," he broke off, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. "What if there was a way to prevent it?"

Marian eyed him warily. Was he actually suggesting that he would help her escape punishment? He must be—there was no reason for him to pretend, and with all his agitation, he certainly _looked _sincere. She decided to test the waters. "And if I would rather die than live in a cage? If I would rather be executed than give up doing what little I have been able to do to help the people?"

Part of her feared that it would be beyond reckless to say what she was thinking now, but she had told only the truth so far, and she couldn't seem to stop, so she plunged on defiantly with her head held high, "If you mean to save my life while forbidding me to live it, you may as well draw your sword and kill me now. I could not bear to do nothing."

Guy rounded on her, and she could see the desperation writ plainly across his face. "Continue helping them, then," he said in a cracked voice. "Do whatever you feel you must."

She stared at him in disbelief. For the first time, she was forced to consider the possibility that Guy's feelings for her were both genuine and powerful, not merely born of a desire to spite his enemy even further than he had when he took Locksley as his own.

Her shock at his words and behavior did not go unnoticed by him, and he was not pleased by it. "_What_?" he said sharply, a heavy scowl marring his features. "Surprised that I'm not quite the heartless monster you thought I was? After you proved that I barely know you at all, you can't allow that perhaps you know me no better?"

A small, squirming bubble of shame formed in her stomach. "I'm sorry," she said. "You're right." She took a deep, steadying breath. "What is your plan to spare me from the noose?"

Guy looked down, and Marian saw his brow furrow briefly. "Unfortunately, I have already informed Vaisey that it was you who tipped Hood off about the unguarded cart, so I cannot simply tell him I was mistaken. He doesn't trust you anyway; it would not be enough. The only sure way would be to convince him beyond any doubt that you are loyal to him."

"And how would I accomplish that?" Marian asked, though she thought she already knew what his answer would be.

He stepped closer. "Marry me," he said, looking her straight in the eyes.

Marian raised an eyebrow. "How gallant of you to offer a solution that would allow you to get what you want."

"What I _want_ is for you to live," Guy practically snarled. "I offer you the protection of the Gisborne name—the _only _protection that will spare you from the Sheriff."

Marian regarded him silently for a moment. Whatever his motives were, there was truth in his words. It was her best chance to escape death and ensure that her father was not punished for his connection to her. She could not simply flee Nottinghamshire; doing so would only prove her guilt, and her father was too frail for a long journey and the uncertain living conditions that would follow, assuming they even managed to elude capture when the Sheriff sent his men to hunt them down.

"I will agree to a betrothal only," she said finally. At once, Guy opened his mouth to protest angrily, but she cut across him in a slightly louder voice, "Not five minutes ago, we established that we do not know each other at all. I will not exchange sacred vows with a stranger. A betrothal period must precede a wedding in any case, and the Sheriff needn't know the details of the arrangement, so this should satisfy him on the matter of my loyalty."

Guy glared at her suspiciously. "And will this betrothal actually end in a wedding?" he asked.

"Well, Sir Guy," said Marian, unable to suppress an ironic smirk, "that would depend upon your prowess at courting, would it not?"

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><p>I've written the next couple of chapters already, so I plan to post them here soon. In the meantime, feedback is the best thing ever. *wide smile*<p> 


	2. Betrothed

Thanks for all the great reviews! Here's chapter two for you.

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><p>Chapter II: Betrothed<p>

Marian's stomach clenched with anxiety as she descended the stairs, Guy—her _betrothed_, she thought dazedly—following in her wake. She could not imagine how her father would react when he learned what had happened. She remembered with a pang how Guy had struck Sir Edward in the face barely half an hour ago when he tried to reason with him. And his promise to stand firm with her against men such as Guy…it had brought them so much closer together. What would he think now? Would he be disappointed? Angry? Would he think her a hypocrite?

They found Sir Edward waiting in the parlor, looking extremely agitated as he paced the length of the room. He turned at the sound of their footsteps, and the little color in his face drained from it. He rushed forward and planted himself between Marian and Guy. "I will not let you take her!" he cried. "You will have to kill me first!"

Guy shot a pained grimace at Marian over Sir Edward's shoulder. Marian placed a gentle hand on her father's arm. "All is well, Father," she said. He looked around at her in confusion, still as distressed as before. "I am not to be executed," she elaborated.

"Not to be—but how—then she has proven her innocence to you, Sir Guy?" Sir Edward sputtered.

"Quite the contrary," said Guy as he assumed his habitual posture, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms.

"Then why…?" Sir Edward's eyes widened in horror. He turned his back on Guy so as to face Marian properly. "Marian, what have you promised him that he has agreed to spare you?"

"Father, please calm yourself. Sir Guy has forced no promises from me. He knows all that I have done—he even knows I am the Nightwatchman—, and he only wishes to help us keep that knowledge from the Sheriff."

Sir Edward's horror transformed into astonishment. He turned to face Guy again. "Is this true? You know all, yet you mean to protect her?"

"I do, sir."

"But Father," said Marian, "it is not quite so simple. The Sheriff will require more than Sir Guy's word to prove that I am loyal to him." She hesitated for a second, her eyes flicking to meet Guy's, before continuing, "He has made an offer of marriage, and I have accepted."

"Marian, no!" gasped Sir Edward. He fixed Guy with a surprisingly fierce glower. "You have taken advantage of an impossible situation in order to force her hand!" he shouted.

"Have I not just said that I mean to protect her?" said Guy, clearly beginning to lose his patience. "This is the only way I can. The Sheriff will not believe that she is loyal unless her actions prove it."

"But she does not care for you!" said Sir Edward. Marian winced at the sight of the pain that flashed briefly across Guy's face, as if her father's words had physically wounded him.

"Perhaps not," he said, not looking at either of them. "So far, I have only managed to save her life." He paused, raising his eyes to meet Marian's. She could see the strength of his determination and was slightly overwhelmed. "But before we are wed, I hope to win her heart."

Marian's cheeks grew hot under his gaze, and she felt very relieved when he chose that moment to free her from it. "I must return to Nottingham; the Sheriff will be expecting me," he said, standing up straight. He inclined his head to both of them. "Sir Edward, Lady Marian." With that, he strode to the door, but he paused on the threshold. "Forgive me for…for what happened earlier, Sir Edward," he said, somehow managing to sound awkward even though his back was to them. "I should not have let my temper get the better of me."

Marian was just as surprised by this apology as her father. In that moment, the enormity of all that had happened that morning impressed itself on her, suddenly becoming real in a way she had not quite been able to grasp at any point during her conversation with Guy in her chambers. Without being aware of deciding to do it, she ran after him. He was only a few paces from his horse when she exited the manor, and she quickened her pace even further.

"Sir Guy, wait!" she said a little breathlessly when she drew level with him, reaching out with both hands to catch him by the arm.

He stopped and turned to look at her, his gaze straying briefly to her hands still gripping him just below his elbow. "What is it, my lady?" he asked.

"Nothing," said Marian, feeling just as awkward as he had seemed when he was apologizing to her father. "It is only—I cannot let you go to Nottingham without thanking you. I won't forget what you've done for me. I…." She trailed off uncertainly, her grip on his arm tightening for a second as she tried and failed to find the right words.

"What?" he asked.

She took a deep breath, then forced herself to meet his eyes again. "If the man you really are is the one I met today," she said at last, "then he is a man I would be honored to know better."

Hints of a smile—a real, heartfelt smile, not the smirk she often saw him wear—grew in his eyes and at the corners of his mouth, and he reached up to cover the fingers of her left hand with his right. "You cannot know how much it means to me to hear you say that," he said, his deep voice a much gentler rumble than usual. Marian's breath caught in her chest, but then Guy sighed, his brow furrowed, and he closed his eyes. "Marian," he began again, his tone tinged with remorse now, "your father is not the only one of whom I must ask forgiveness." His hand slid along her forearm until his thumb brushed her scar through her sleeve.

"'Twas little more than a scratch," said Marian, smiling. "It has healed well, as you saw."

"I still regret it," said Guy. "I do not like to think that I have been the cause of any pain to you."

"Then you are forgiven, Sir Guy," said Marian, her smile widening mischievously, "but you may recall that the pain was not even worth an 'ouch,' so I hope you will not let it trouble you any longer."

"As you wish, my lady," he said, and before turning to mount his horse, he took her hand and kissed it. She watched him ride away, absently rubbing the spot where his lips had touched her skin. When she walked back to the manor, she saw her father standing in the doorway. He must have been watching them. She was glad; just as words alone would not convince the Sheriff of her loyalty, her own insistence that Guy's intentions were good would not be enough to convince her father that he was anything more than the Sheriff's pet wolf.

—-—

Marian had almost finished righting her furniture and replacing her baubles and trinkets on their shelves when she heard a noise at her window. She did not need to look around to know that Robin had just entered the room. "If you have come to give me the necklace to show Gisborne, then you are too late," she said.

"I know." He tried to sound calm, but it was useless; she could hear the tension and worry in his voice. "I saw him riding back to Nottingham when I was on my way here. What happened?"

"I told him the truth," said Marian, turning to face him in time to see his expressive features crumple in anguish. He let the necklace fall to the floor with a clatter and strode forward until he was an arm's length from her, then put his hands around her upper arms and looked deeply into her eyes.

"I swear to you, Marian…I _will_ protect you from Gisborne and the Sheriff, no matter what it takes."

"There will be no need for that," she said, shrugging out of his grip. Little though she liked being this cold to Robin, the giddy fluttering of her stomach that normally accompanied his arrival had been replaced this time by a heavy weight of disappointment. Though everything had turned out far better than she ever would have imagined, it was not because of Robin. He had failed to do what he'd promised, and the cost could have been her and her father's lives. She was not so unreasonable as to deny that some of the fault was her own, but she was hurt. She had long since grown weary of the way Robin always seemed to be quick to speak and slow to act when it came to her, and she was beginning to doubt that he would ever change.

"What do you mean?" asked Robin.

"Gisborne has not gone to tell the Sheriff of my treachery. He has gone to inform him that I have accepted his offer of marriage."

"_What?_" he yelped, staggering away from her as if she had punched him in the face. But, like her father had done, he quickly jumped to his own conclusion. "Is that the price he demanded in exchange for his protection?"

"No. It is the only way the Sheriff will believe I am not a traitor and a spy."

"You should have waited for me to get you the necklace."

"Why? So that I would be forced to continue deceiving Gisborne with my every word and gesture? Do you have any idea how exhausting that has been? And it would not have spared me from this betrothal. Whether Gisborne learned the truth or not, the Sheriff would still have required proof of my loyalty."

Robin made a frustrated noise in his throat and turned away. Undeterred, Marian went on: "I was completely honest with him for the first time, and it was a _relief_, even when I still thought I was bound for the noose. He knows about everything now, not just the necklace and the unguarded cart, and he still wants to protect me. He could have used his knowledge to blackmail me, but instead he practically begged me to let him save my life by accepting his proposal. We both knew that I was the one without any options, not him. He did not have to listen to my terms, let alone accept them, but he did. I am free to continue as the Nightwatchman, and I am free to break the engagement once the Sheriff forgets his suspicions about me."

"And you believed him when he told you that!" said Robin incredulously. "But then," he added, his mouth curling up in a smirk that did nothing to conceal the jealous resentment in his eyes, "perhaps you _wanted_ to."

"Well, I—I—," Marian stammered, running a hand unconsciously through her hair. Guy had looked so desperate that she had to believe he'd been sincere in his promise, but a small particle of doubt did lurk somewhere in her mind. Had he only been saying what she'd wanted to hear so that she would say yes to his proposal? Or, perhaps more likely, he had meant every word at the time, but wouldn't want to hold to it later. Recovering at last, she said defensively, "I'm not a fool, Robin. I would never trust him on his word alone—not after everything he has done. Only time will tell if he meant it. The point is that Gisborne's feelings for me seem to be stronger than his sense of loyalty to the Sheriff, whether or not I return them."

"And do you?" said Robin sharply, raising his eyebrows.

"No, I do not—and he knows it. But considering all he has done for me today when I fully expected him to throw me to the Sheriff without hesitation, I at least owe him a chance."

"But of course!"

"Don't be such a child," Marian snapped. "Where were you when it wasn't too late to show Gisborne the necklace, anyway?"

Robin's gaze dropped to the floor. "It was harder to track down than I expected. Evidently Allan's brother stole it from Lucky George shortly before he was hanged, but we did not discover it amongst his possessions until after we had already wasted time searching every inch of Lucky George's wagon." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Marian."

Marian felt her disappointment ease somewhat with the knowledge that Robin had at least been doing everything he could to keep his promise. "You are not to blame," she said, feeling rather weary all of a sudden. It was barely noon, and this already felt like the longest day of her life.

—-—

"Ah, Gisborne!" said Vaisey when Guy strode into the great hall of the castle. "How is your leper friend enjoying her time in the dungeon so far? She won't be in there long; I trust you'll ensure she gets as much out of her stay as possible."

Guy was sometimes visited by a vague desire to seize his lord and master by the throat and squeeze until the man turned blue and stopped struggling—whenever he humiliated him or mockingly rejected his suggestions, for instance—, but he'd never found the urge quite as difficult to resist as it was now, as he stared into Vaisey's ugly face, seeing the way the eyes bulged and the uneven yellow teeth were bared in a delighted grin while the man contemplated Marian awaiting execution in the dungeon. He reminded himself firmly of everything Vaisey had done for him in the past, of everything he had promised him for the future, and shoved the impulse aside. Even so, Vaisey's words had been enough to eliminate whatever doubts Guy had still had about choosing to protect Marian. "Lady Marian is innocent, my lord. My sergeant was the traitor, as I first suspected."

The grin dropped off Vaisey's face and his eyes narrowed. "Oh?" he said disdainfully. "Do tell me the tale she spun you to clear her name. It's been too long since I heard a decent story."

"She told me no tales, my lord," said Guy, scowling. "I believed her to be the spy because I saw the necklace I had given her 'round the neck of a girl from Locksley. The girl told me she got the necklace from Robin Hood. I thought Marian had given it to him willingly and told him of our plans, but when I went to Knighton Hall, I saw that her chambers had been ransacked."

"Had they?" said Vaisey thoughtfully, looking unconvinced. "And you're sure she didn't do that herself in order to cover her tracks, are you?"

"I arrived before her; there was no time for that," said Guy. He had thought it would be harder than this to lie to Vaisey. Instead, it was proving not only easy, but somehow deeply satisfying, as if the lies were his revenge for all the humiliations Vaisey had inflicted on him over the years. "Her father couldn't have done it either, as he had no warning of my visit."

Though Vaisey no longer appeared skeptical, he did look very cross. "Arrest her anyway, and that feeble old fool, Sir Edward, while you're at it. You and I are the only ones who know she is innocent; if we hold a public trial, we can skew the evidence to make them both look guilty. I've been waiting for an opportunity to rid myself of their sniveling, peasant-loving interference for years, and this is the perfect chance to shut them up for good."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, my lord," said Guy.

Vaisey raised an eyebrow, his cold eyes flashing dangerously. "You'll have to repeat that, Gisborne; I don't think I heard you."

"Marian is to become Lady Gisborne. She will not defy me, so you needn't fear her defying you. Sir Edward will stifle his sympathetic opinions too, if he knows what's good for him."

Vaisey scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I do not have time for your pathetic infatuated fantasies now, Gisborne," he said. "Stop pining after the girl like a wounded pup, it makes me ill just looking at you, and you are a blind fool if you really believe she's ever done anything more than humor you."

"It is no fantasy, my lord," said Guy, raising his voice slightly. "She has already accepted my hand in marriage."

At first, Vaisey looked so horrified that it was almost comical, but then his face cracked into an evil grin much like the one he had worn earlier. Guy felt slightly nauseated at the sight of it. "Well, well, Gisborne, tamed the wild mare, have you? You're not quite as incompetent as I thought. I'm not happy that you ignored my advice about marriage, but keep your woman in line and I'll say no more about it."


	3. Of Rings and Rendezvous

Thanks for the great feedback! I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story so far. Oh, and I meant to reply to **Mediatrix** in the last author's note, since disabled private messages prevented me from replying to the review normally. I can happily promise you that I have no intention of white-washing Guy or turning Robin into a scumbag for the sake of Guy/Marian. To do so would entirely defeat the purpose of this fic, which is simply to change one critical detail (Robin arriving in time to get Marian the necklace) and see where the characters take things from there. I love reading and writing AUs that do this kind of thing, whereas the ones that change the characters for the sake of a desired outcome come across as lazy self-gratification, and I can't stand them. It's much better to create a situation that enables the characters to take a different path than the one they took in canon without actually changing who they are, because it makes it seem like a legitimate alternative—what really might have happened if one thing had changed.

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><p>Chapter III: Of Rings and Rendez-vous<p>

Ever since Lord Vaisey had become Sheriff, Simon Wright's jewelry shop in Nottingham had seen a steady decline in business. He had never had a great deal of money to spare, even in the best of times, but it had grown difficult in the last couple of years to scrape enough for the basic necessities his family required, let alone enough extra to keep up with all the taxes.

Now it was worse than ever. He hadn't sold a single item in a fortnight, though there had been another break-in. Fortunately, he kept nothing of value in the workshop itself besides his tools and equipment, which were rarely the priority of thieves in a jewelry shop, so there had been little for the intruders to steal. The secret compartment his dear Edith had advised him to install at the bottom of their wardrobe shortly after their marriage had saved his supply of gems and precious metals yet again, but that would only keep working as long as the culprits were unwilling to use force. He knew he would hand it all over the second Edith and the children were threatened.

Consequently, when Sir Guy of Gisborne ducked into the workshop on Tuesday afternoon, one hand on the pommel of his sword and a dark scowl on his face, Simon was convinced that all would soon be lost.

"G-good afternoon, L-lord Gisborne," stammered Simon in a rather higher voice than usual. "H-how can I be of service?"

Sir Guy did not look at Simon as he answered. Instead, his eyes traveled around the workshop, taking in the large furnace protruding from one wall, the hammers and anvils along the adjacent wall, the clutter of tools, clay molds, and wire heaped upon the workbench that stood between them in the middle of the room, and a couple of parchment sheets covered in charcoal sketches of various jewelry designs tacked to the wall on his right. "I have made inquiries around Nottingham. It seems the jewelry made in this shop comes highly recommended. I would like to commission a betrothal ring."

Simon could hardly contain his shock. Guy of Gisborne was quite possibly the last man in the world he had ever expected to enter his workshop as a _customer_. He would have been far less surprised to see the Sheriff himself walk through his door with intent to purchase, as the man was obviously fond of jewelry. "Er, c-certainly, my lord," he said, making a valiant effort to compose himself. "Did you have any particular design in mind, or would you like to have a closer look at the sketches?" He waved his hand at the wall with sheets of parchment tacked to it.

"As a matter of fact, I have a _very _particular design in mind. A man of your reputed skill should be able to recreate it for me."

"Recreate? Then I take it you don't have access to the original?" said Simon shrewdly. Now that they were talking business, he didn't feel quite as terrified. Even the implied "or else" in Sir Guy's tone couldn't frighten him too much; his reputation as a skilled jeweler was, after all, well earned.

"No. It's a family heirloom, but unfortunately it was lost many years ago." Sir Guy's voice was tinged with a bitter sort of sorrow. It made him seem much more human than usual all of a sudden, and Simon felt an unexpected stab of sympathy for him.

"I see. Can you tell me details of its appearance?" Simon took out a piece of charcoal as he spoke, then pulled one of the sheets of parchment from the wall and scrubbed a corner occupied by the design of a sapphire pendant clean with his sleeve.

"It was silver, and it had sort of leaves and flower petals across the top made out of green and purple gems."

Simon paused partway through sketching. The sketches were generally for the customers' benefit alone; Simon had always had a knack for visualizing the designs in his mind, but this was a far more vivid mental picture than usual. "Er, this wouldn't happen to be the design of the previous Lady Gisborne's ring, would it?" he asked hesitantly. He hadn't been master of his own shop for more than a year and had only just started to court Edith when rumors had reached Nottingham of the tragedy in Locksley. Lord Locksley and Lord and Lady Gisborne had all perished in a fire that destroyed Gisborne Manor. Small wonder, then, that Sir Guy didn't have the original ring.

"How do you know that?" Guy said, his tone as dangerous as Simon had expected it to be from the start of the visit.

"I-I was an apprentice under Master Williamson at one time, my lord, and I was there when the late Lord Gisborne came to commission that ring for his lady."

Sir Guy's threatening sneer changed instantly to a look of surprise, and then to one of carefully guarded eagerness. "And you can still recall what it looked like?" he asked.

"Aye, my lord," said Simon, continuing to sketch. "It was a very fine ring. I remember how pleased Lord Gisborne looked when he saw it finished. Master Williamson turned to me when he left. 'That, me boy, was the look of a man with no thought in his head but his wife's happiness,' he said. He was honored to make that ring for him, and I would be honored to make it again for his son." Simon slid the parchment with the finished sketch across the workbench. Sir Guy picked it up and stared at it as if it were a priceless treasure.

"Thank you," he said quietly, handing the parchment back. "You can be sure that you will be well compensated for the ring. How soon will it be finished?"

"I can have it ready for you before the week is out, my lord," said Simon, trying not to sound too enthusiastic, lest he cross some invisible line that would cause Sir Guy to revert to the more brutish behavior he expected from him.

Sir Guy nodded and turned to leave the shop. Before he reached the door, he paused and looked back just enough that his head was in profile. "Do you think Lady Marian will like it?" he asked, sounding anxious, as though he had forgotten until now to consider her opinion and suddenly realized that it was more important than anything else.

"I do, my lord," Simon said reassuringly. It came as no surprise that Lady Marian was the bride of whom Sir Guy had been speaking; it was common knowledge in Nottingham that he had been pursuing her, and Simon felt confident that Sir Guy's mother's ring was very compatible with Lady Marian's taste. Simon saw the hint of a smile on Sir Guy's face before he nodded again and departed.

Rather bewildered by the entire encounter, Simon nevertheless set to work at once. He had no other commissions to occupy him at the moment, after all, and finishing this one ahead of schedule could only improve the situation with Sir Guy even more.

—-—

Marian hated how nervous she felt. She was only going riding with Guy; it was nothing to get worked up over. But, then again, perhaps it was. He had never asked her to spend time alone with him like this before. She supposed that it would become a frequent occurrence now that they were betrothed, particularly in light of their mutual desire to learn more about each other—and his determination to win her affections.

Perhaps that was the source of her nervousness. Guy had already won her respect and gratitude, and he had completely overthrown her previous estimation of his character. If he could accomplish all of that in a single morning, what additional victories would he gain over the course of their engagement?

Marian couldn't stop herself from double-checking all of the preparations. Her horse was saddled and ready (the mare whinnied and turned her head as if she expected Marian to hold out an apple when she tested the tightness of the girth strap). Her hands flew frequently to her hair, which had not fallen from the loose plait she had put it in to keep it out of the way during the ride. The side lacing on the bodice of her bliaut had not come undone either.

She still felt far from composed when the sounds of galloping hooves reached her ears. She turned to see Guy riding up the path to Knighton's stables and immediately noticed the absence of his trademark leather coat. For whatever reason, he had dispensed with it this afternoon in favor of a simple linen shirt. The shirt was, predictably, black, but the loose, light material did a great deal to soften Guy's overall appearance.

Seized with a sudden fear that he would try to do something gallant like assist her onto her horse if he reached her while her feet were still on the ground, Marian swiftly hoisted herself up atop her mount and shifted her long, full skirt until it fell in a way that would not interfere with her riding.

"I see you are eager to begin our ride," he said as he pulled up next to her gray palfrey on his black steed. He spoke casually and was smirking, but she thought she could see something like delight in his eyes.

"Indeed," she said, patting her horse's neck, "I have been looking forward to it, and I think Rhiannon has, too."

They set off riding side-by-side, Guy slightly ahead as Marian did not know his intended route. She noticed that, though they were soon in Sherwood, Guy kept them near the edge of the forest, where they were least likely to encounter any outlaws.

After some ten minutes of riding in companionable silence, Guy cleared his throat. "Saturday is King Richard's birthday," he said. "I have decided to host a celebration at Locksley Manor. I would be honored if you and your father were to attend."

"We would be happy to, Sir Guy," said Marian, smiling.

She saw his eyes light up at this answer, but then his jaw tightened and he shifted in his saddle. "I have been to see the jeweler in Nottingham," he said.

"Why?" Marian blurted, startled.

"To commission your betrothal ring," he said, looking surprised that she hadn't realized that on her own.

Now that she thought about it, she felt rather stupid. What _else_ would he have been doing at a jeweler's? It wasn't as if he ever wore any jewelry himself. "Oh," she said. She knew she was blushing again, and it only got worse when he glanced over at her. She determinedly avoided his gaze.

"He said he'd have it ready by the end of the week. Would you…would you permit me to announce our engagement and present the ring to you during the celebration?"

"In front of all those people?" she said blankly.

She chanced a glance at him then and saw that he looked surlier than he had so far during the ride. "Marian, I have wanted this for a very long time," he said, not looking at her. "Almost from the moment I first came to Nottinghamshire and saw you grown. I know you do not feel the same, but it seems wrong to keep it to ourselves, as if it were something to be ashamed of."

"I am not ashamed to be betrothed to you, Guy," said Marian sincerely, "but I will not pretend that I am entirely accustomed to the idea. Thank you for asking me before making the announcement. I am not sure I would have taken it well if you had chosen to spring it on me on Saturday in front of the other guests."

Guy nodded, looking slightly more cheerful. She could tell that he appreciated her honesty, even if it might not necessarily be easy for him to know precisely where he stood with her when it was so far from what he wanted.

She had been regarding him quizzically for a moment before he became conscious of it. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Oh, no," she said. "I was only thinking about what you said earlier. If you've wanted this for as long as you say, then why did you only begin courting me recently?"

"Before I gained Locksley, what did I have to offer you?" he said, almost too quietly for her to hear.

"I am the heiress of Knighton," she reminded him. "My husband needn't be a man of great wealth or position. I am far more interested in who he is than what he has, in any case. All the wealth in the world cannot ensure that a man is loving and kind, and the lowliest pauper may be a saint among men."

"I am no saint," said Guy.

"But neither are you without goodness," said Marian gently. "The Sheriff has not succeeded in snuffing it out completely."

"How can you be so certain? I have worked for the Sheriff for many years."

"Because I have seen it," she said. "I think I am not the only one who wears a mask in the Sheriff's presence. You smirk for his benefit when he elaborates on unnecessarily cruel schemes, but when his back is turned, you scowl. You value loyalty and honesty as virtues, not as qualities to exploit in others. You chose to protect _me_ when you did not have to."

"Yes I did, Marian."

Marian felt heat flood into her cheeks yet again, but she could not look away from him.

"I came to Knighton furious at the thought that you'd been playing me for a fool all this time. I was angry enough that I might have done anything. But then I asked for the truth, and you answered. It had never occurred to me that your actions were against the Sheriff; I had supposed them to be a betrayal against me. I think the Sheriff wanted me to believe it was so."

"Betrayal is the worst of all sins to you," said Marian, watching him curiously, "yet you do not think me worthy of execution for betraying the Sheriff."

"Unlike me, you owe the Sheriff nothing," said Guy with unexpected harshness. "I am well aware that few would not betray him if they did not fear for their lives."

Marian wanted to ask him about his own loyalty to the Sheriff, but decided not to say anything that might provoke him further. As they rode on, she wondered how the Sheriff had succeeded in getting Guy in his power to such an extent that he remained at his side after countless humiliations and dismissals. She suddenly had a vivid mental image of a dog, which, though it was beaten and neglected, still did whatever it could in hopes of earning some small scrap of approval or affection from its cruel master.

The forest around them was beautiful. Sunlight filtered through the trees in flecks of gold and pale green, and the leaves rippled and danced in the gentle spring breeze. Another few minutes passed in silence. This time, it was she who broke it. "I fear you have me at a disadvantage, Sir Guy," she said.

"What is that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You have been privy to all my secrets for some time now, but I still know none of yours. It hardly seems fair." She shot him a slightly playful grin to show she did not resent him for it.

"I'm afraid my secrets have nothing to do with charitable acts."

"You have no need to fear that I will betray what you tell me to anyone, if that's what keeps you from speaking. You have guarded your knowledge of my actions from those who would use it to hurt me. I could do no less for you."

"I do trust you not to betray me, Marian," he said, but his tone was still guarded.

"Is there anyone in whom you can confide?" she asked. "For three years, no one—not even my father—knew I was the Nightwatchman. There were times when it nearly drove me mad to keep it to myself. Do you not feel the same? Do you never find yourself longing for a confidant? Who better to fill that role than your betrothed?"

He sighed and tugged the reins so that his horse came to a halt. Marian did the same. "I will not deny that I welcome the idea," he said, "but if I were to tell you my secrets, you would be more confessor than confidant. You would despise me if you knew all. Your actions may have been illegal under Vaisey's regime, but you have sinned against neither God nor King."

A shiver of fear ran up Marian's spine, but she ignored it. Surely he couldn't have anything worse to tell her than the things she'd already witnessed, unbeknownst to him—such as his brutal execution of Joe Lacey while the old guard lay wounded and defenseless at his feet. And no matter how bad it was, she had to know before this courtship went any farther. "If you know that what you have done is sinful, is that not the first step towards repentance and forgiveness? Is not confession the second? Surely my judgment of your actions is a small matter compared to God's. No man is beyond the reach of forgiveness, Guy, if he only takes the trouble to seek it."

Guy said nothing. He looked torn and tormented. Marian took both reins in her right hand and tentatively stretched out her left across the space between their horses to touch his arm. She was not prepared for the way her pulse seemed to kick into double-time with the physical contact, but she did not withdraw. "You say you are afraid that I will despise you if you tell me the truth, yet you still want me to marry you. I cannot marry only the good in you, no matter how much you want to keep the rest hidden. If I marry you, I marry _all _of you. You must permit me to see the bad as well as the good before that day comes, and then I can decide for myself if you are a man I would despise…or one I could grow to love. I thought you would have me executed when you learned what I've done, but instead you proposed. Do you not think it possible that I may surprise you as well?"

His fingers found hers where they rested on his arm and squeezed. "Perhaps I have underestimated you. But will you give me time? Much of what I would confide in you I have never shared with anyone. It will not be easy for me."

"Of course," she said with a soft smile. "Shall we return now?"

He nodded, and they both withdrew their hands to take up their reins again.

—-—

When Marian entered her bedchamber half an hour later, it was with every intention of collapsing on her bed and spending the time until dinner trying to muddle through her very confused emotions. Before she could even begin, however, a shadow cut across the light streaming in from her window, and Robin leapt inside.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, hurrying forward and prodding him towards the center of the room while casting a frantic glance out the window to make sure no one had seen him enter.

"Just paying a visit to the future Lady Gisborne," Robin said with a mocking grin and a bow.

Marian scowled. "I can take care of myself, Robin. Did you follow me when I was with Guy as well?"

"So he's 'Guy' now?"

"Don't change the subject," she said, folding her arms—though she hadn't been aware until Robin mentioned it that she had started calling Guy by his first name only. She pushed the thought aside; she could add it to the growing list of things to think about later.

"I don't trust him, so yes, I did follow you when you were riding with him _alone in the forest_."

"Then that must have been a very dull hour for you. It isn't as if there was anything interesting for you to see or hear." In truth, Marian _was_ a little anxious. She hoped her words would be enough to trick him into revealing what he'd overheard of their conversation.

"As it happens, I was very interested to hear about his plans for Saturday," he said, grinning, "I think I might drop by."

"You will do nothing of the sort," said Marian angrily. "If you insist on continuing to antagonize him just for the fun of it, how will I ever convince him that you're fighting for the right cause? It's one thing to thwart him when he's on business for the Sheriff, but what harm can he possibly do by throwing a party at Locksley?"

"Oh, so he won't just be showing off his new estate and his bride, then? He's genuinely happy to celebrate the King's birthday?"

"It is your own fault you lost your estate; do not blame Guy. You did not have to defy the Sheriff openly."

"I'm sure Will and Allan would agree," said Robin coolly.

"As would the innocent people De Fourtnoy killed to frame and discredit you," Marian shot back.

"Why do you keep defending Gisborne?"

"Because he defends me!" she exclaimed. "If the Sheriff found out all Guy has done to protect me from him, Guy would be hanged just as quickly as I would!"

"And that would be very admirable if he hadn't already done so many other things that _do_ merit hanging."

"Surely that is taking it a bit far," said Marian. "Besides, what he has done in the past shouldn't matter if he truly desires to change, and I believe he does."

Robin let out a frustrated noise, then fixed her with an unusually serious gaze. "You are setting yourself up for disappointment, Marian. Men like Gisborne do not change."

Marian opened her mouth to argue, but Robin didn't give her the chance. "I must go," he said. "I told my men I would not be gone long." And he left before she could say another word.

* * *

><p>Rhiannon is the name of a Celtic horse goddess. I thought it made a nice name for Marian's horse. (Epona was a little too obvious, especially as anyone who plays Nintendo games, myself included, is going to associate that name with <em>Legend of Zelda<em>.) Getting Guy out of his leather jacket was very deliberate. I plan to have a recurring theme of removing his literal armor for scenes when he's less guarded with Marian. Besides, he looked really sexy in those black linen shirts in S3. *grin*

I haven't written much farther than this, so updates might slow down after the next chapter. (Though lots of feedback would serve as a powerful incentive to keep up the pace. Just sayin'.)


	4. The Marked Man

Okay, this is where the story starts to get to the episodes after "Brothers in Arms". This one covers the bulk of "Tattoo? What Tattoo?", and I really like the changes caused by the different dynamic Marian and Guy have.

* * *

><p>Chapter IV: The Marked Man<p>

Marian recognized most of Guy's guests from the Council of Nobles, though she knew none of them particularly well. So far, she had remained at her father's side, smiling politely and curtseying at anyone who approached to speak to him, and sipping occasionally from the goblet of wine Guy had brought her earlier. She couldn't help feeling amused by Guy's idea of a party. He must not have been to many of them, and she would be very surprised if this wasn't the first he had hosted. There were no minstrels to provide music and entertainment, no games the guests could play, and the food, though good, was nothing more extravagant than the typical supper of a nobleman. On the whole, it didn't feel like a celebration so much as a gathering.

At least everyone but her seemed to be enjoying their conversations, and it was nice to see that Guy's wardrobe wasn't limited to leather jackets and linen shirts—though apparently only in style, not color. His current combination of leather surcoat and a more fitted shirt emphasized his muscular arms rather nicely. Suddenly aware of the direction in which her thoughts were heading, Marian tore her eyes away from her betrothed and hastily took a sip of wine.

Not long after the majority of the guests had arrived, Guy moved to stand in the center of the great room. "My lords, ladies, and gentlemen, thank you for your attendance here today," he said loudly while he refilled his goblet. "As you know, we're here to celebrate the King's birthday. We wish him success in the Holy Land, and we pray for his safe return to these shores. Please, raise your goblets in a toast. To King Richard!"

All assembled repeated his last two words with gusto, then lifted their goblets and drank. While everyone's eyes were still on him, Guy walked over to Marian and Sir Edward. "The King's birthday is not the only cause I have for celebrating today, however," he said. He held out a hand to Marian. There was a nervous tension in the way he carried himself, but Marian could also see earnest excitement and anticipation in his eyes—all of which served to banish some of her misgivings about this unspoken invitation to join him at the center of attention. He had clearly been looking forward to this ever since their ride in the forest. She passed her goblet to her father and placed her hand in Guy's with a smile, and he led her farther into the room. "It is my great pleasure to announce that the Lady Marian has accepted my hand in marriage."

There was a collective sigh of pleasant surprise and a smattering of applause from the nobles at this, followed by a certain amount of whispering and giggling from a cluster of ladies whose goblets had been refilled several times already. Guy somehow managed to look simultaneously proud, elated, and sheepish at these reactions from his guests, and Marian had to fight a mad urge to burst out laughing. Fortunately, she managed to stop it before it became more than an amused grin.

Guy set his goblet on a side table and procured a ring from the pocket of his trousers. Marian didn't know what she had expected the ring to look like, but she certainly hadn't expected it to be a beautiful creation of delicately-wrought silver, set with many small emeralds and amethysts in the shapes of leaves and flowers. She was too stunned to speak. Guy slipped it onto her finger, and a cheer went up around the room. Someone shouted "Kiss her!" over all the other noise. The chant was immediately taken up by the group of tipsy ladies, and soon the rest of the nobles had joined in as well.

Marian felt small and surrounded. She stared up at Guy with wide eyes. He looked rather shocked by this development himself, but she could tell that he meant to grant the crowd's wish. For the first time in her life, Marian thought she might faint. She was lightheaded and dizzy as one of Guy's hands moved to her waist and the other came up to brush against her cheek. _I'm not ready for this!_ she thought over and over in panic. And yet, her head was tilting in preparation to receive his kiss. Before his lips could touch hers, however, there was a hissing sound and an arrow _thwacked_ into the wall, passing so close to Guy on the way that Marian saw it ruffle his hair. For the briefest moment as Guy jerked away from her, his face contorting in anger while he searched for the source of the disturbance, Marian felt a disorienting combination of relief and…disappointment?

But then the truth of what was happening sank in, and those emotions were eclipsed by fury—fury that intensified sharply when Robin appeared on the second level, a huge grin on his face and a fresh arrow already nocked to his bow, which he was aiming at Guy. "Have we missed the speeches?" he asked. Much, Little John, Djaq, and Allan wove through the alarmed guests.

"Hood, I don't remember inviting you," said Guy. Next to him, Marian's hands were balled so tightly into fists that her nails were digging into her palms, but she didn't care. She glared up at Robin, incensed. She had been perfectly clear when she told him not to come to the party, yet here he was. She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from shouting at him.

As if he knew what she was thinking, Robin steadfastly avoided her gaze, smirking cheekily at Guy instead. "Since when has a man needed an invitation to his own house?" he said.

"Since he lost all right to that house by becoming an outlaw," said Guy through gritted teeth.

"I would have declined anyway," said Robin. "My men and I are here on business. Please, everyone, if you could assist us by removing all your jewelry and valuables, and handing them to that man over there. Much?" The former manservant looked up and snatched his hands away from the platters of bread and chicken, attempting to discreetly swallow his bulging mouthful of food. "And then proceed to that room," Robin pointed with his bow, "where you will all wait quietly until we go."

"Do as he says," said Guy, which distracted Marian a little from her anger at Robin. She knew Robin's men wouldn't hurt any of the guests, but Guy likely did not, so she was surprised and pleased that he was not calling the bluff by shouting for his guards. This distraction did not work for long. As Robin's men collected the guests' valuables and herded them into the other room, her ire mounted again.

A sharp tapping sound disrupted Robin's mischief. His men were suddenly quite keen to leave, but he ignored them and walked towards Marian instead. She couldn't believe his audacity as he gave an exaggerated bow, still grinning. Before she knew what he was doing, he had caught up her left hand and planted a kiss on the back of it. She jerked her hand sharply away, and she might have slapped him if not for the sound of Guy drawing his sword.

"Give that back, Hood," he snarled.

"I don't think so," said Robin, his eyes sparkling with triumphant laughter. With his right hand, he tossed Marian's betrothal ring into the air and caught it again. Shocked, Marian immediately looked down at her ring finger, which was once again bare. How had he done that? She hadn't even felt him slide the ring off!

Robin turned to leave and Guy lunged at him, but he spun back around and whipped his curved sword up to parry the blow. Before the fight could escalate any further, Marian felt a hand gripping her arm, and within seconds, her father had ushered her out of the room. "Father!" she protested. "Let me go! They might kill each other! I have to stop them before they carry this foolishness any farther!"

"No, Marian, I will not have you in harm's way," said Sir Edward.

She could hear the clang of swords in the great room and fear gripped her. She didn't want Robin to hurt Guy, and as angry as she was with Robin, she didn't want him hurt either. She struggled with her father for a moment, but soon, Robin's men fled and everything turned into a mad rush as the nobles tried to escape the confines of Locksley. And while they were pouring out, guards were pouring in—or attempting to, at least.

Marian fought her way to the door just in time to see Robin mounting his horse and Guy chasing after him. Robin, however, seemed strangely reluctant to leave. Instead of galloping away, he was glaring fiercely at Guy, and somehow Marian doubted it had anything to do with their usual rivalry. The _look_ on his face…at that moment, she could believe Robin was capable of anything.

"Guy, leave him!" she cried. Robin's men were riding away, and Robin had finally turned to follow.

"I don't think so."

Marian protested feebly, but Guy was already mounting his horse. "He has your ring," he said. With that, he kicked his horse's sides and shot off towards the forest.

Just then, the Sheriff strode up to her—he must have arrived while she was in the other room—and made one of his usual dry remarks, but she was too distracted to pay attention. She had noticed two guards dragging Robin's Saracen friend past her. She exchanged fearful glances with the boy, but neither of them could do anything else. Now the Sheriff had him, all because Robin hadn't listened to her.

—-—

"Lady Marian," Much gasped as he brought his horse up beside her, thoroughly out of breath and looking panicky, "You must…you must come with me."

"What has happened?" she asked urgently. At least two hours had passed since Guy went chasing after Robin, and she had been on the verge of getting on her horse and riding into the forest to find them.

"Gisborne," said Much. "I think Robin might kill him. Or worse."

"Worse?" Marian repeated, her brow furrowing in confusion while fear made her heart race. "What do you mean, worse?"

"I mean—I mean torture!" he said, his voice rising in both pitch and volume. "When I left them, he'd heated up a sword over the fire, and—and he was holding it up to Gisborne's face." Marian felt her insides twist sickeningly. For a moment she thought she was going to vomit. Much was still talking, but she barely heard him. "And he doesn't even seem to care that Djaq's been captured. John had to knock Robin out before he and the others could even go on a rescue mission; he didn't want to let them go."

"Has he gone mad?" she asked faintly.

"Maybe he has. Killing a man in open, honest combat is one thing, but I've never seen him like this. I didn't know what to do. He wouldn't listen to me."

"Take me to them," Marian said, swinging herself up onto the horse behind him. "Now."

When they reached the site where the outlaws were currently camping a quarter of an hour later, it was to find a bruised and exhausted Robin sitting by the fire with is head in his hands, and an equally bruised Guy, who was unconscious, gagged, blindfolded, and tied to a large tree. At their arrival, Robin looked up, then got unsteadily to his feet. His physical condition did nothing to soften Marian towards him. Before Much had even stopped the horse, she had leapt down and stalked straight past Robin without glancing at him, fully intending to untie Guy.

"What do you think you're doing, Marian?" Robin's hand closed around her wrist to prevent her from getting any closer to Guy, but she jerked it sharply out of his grip and kept walking, so he sped up and planted himself directly in her path. "Marian," he said warily, holding his hands out in front of him.

"I told you _not _to come to Locksley today!" she burst out, not troubling to keep her voice down. "Why didn't you listen? And then Much arrived at Knighton to tell me that you were torturing Guy and intent on killing him, that you would not hear reason even while one of your men is at the mercy of the Sheriff. I knew you could be foolish, Robin of Locksley, but I had no idea you could be so heartless and bloodthirsty, and over such a trifling matter as an innocent celebration, just because it happened to be held at your house!"

"Would you call it innocent when a traitor throws a party in honor of the man he betrayed?" Robin demanded.

"What are you talking about?" Marian was in no mood for cryptic hints.

"Gisborne tried to kill the King," said Robin quietly.

"Rubbish!" she said automatically, but all she felt was shock. Surely it couldn't be true…but Robin wouldn't make up something this outrageous, would he?

"In the Holy Land, Saracens came to kill the King. But it wasn't Saracens. It was _him_. He stabbed me and left me for dead, and then he went to kill the King in his bed."

"I don't believe you. This is about—"

"I have proof," he interrupted. "His arm. I wounded him. His tattoo."

"What tattoo?"

"Look!" said Robin, stepping aside and pointing. "There, on his right arm, where the sleeve is torn." Marian moved forward and looked where Robin was pointing. Sure enough, there was a tattoo of a wolf's head, cleanly bisected by a white line. "See the scar across it? I gave him that in the Holy Land in King Richard's tent."

Marian retreated a few steps, now at a complete loss as to what to think or feel. Her anger didn't want to go away, but here was clear evidence that it hadn't just been petty jealousy driving Robin's actions today. Not the later ones, at least. "But how could he have been in the Holy Land?" she asked, reason coming to her aid. "He was here, in your house!" A sudden thought caused her to falter. _It couldn't be…_

"What?" said Robin.

Marian looked at Guy with unfocused eyes, her heart sinking as she spotted the chink in her defense of him. "He was unwell for months. No one was allowed to see him."

"That is why I have to kill him," said Robin.

"No!" she said. "_You have sinned against neither God nor King_." The words leapt out of her memory and whittled away at her doubts even more. Could this be the sin Guy had believed would cause her to despise him? _"That would be very admirable if he hadn't already done many other things that _do_ merit hanging."_ Perhaps Robin had not been exaggerating when he said that after all. If so, then Guy certainly had his reasons not to want to tell her. For now, she was determined to withhold judgment and give him time, as he had requested, rather than demanding answers and explanations immediately. "Perhaps he did try to kill the King," she continued at last. "But that does not mean he does not feel remorse for—"

"Remorse! His actions today were not those of a remorseful man, Marian."

"Well, why on earth would he show remorse in front of the man who takes every opportunity to provoke him? For heaven's sake, the two of you are like squabbling children." Robin opened his mouth angrily, but Marian cut across him. "And do not try to justify it now that you can accuse him of treason. You never needed justification before; the fact that you have it now is merely convenient."

"I've had all the justification I could stand from the moment I returned," said Robin in a low voice, and Marian knew instantly that she had crossed a line with her flippant rebuke. "Locksley was prosperous when I left, and the people were happy. I returned to find that hands and tongues had been cut off, parents had died of hunger in order to spare their children from starvation, and families had been living in terror from one tax collection day to the next that they would not be able to save enough to satisfy the Sheriff's demands."

"Guy was not the cause of any of that."

"No, but he has dutifully enforced it according to the wishes of his lord and master! You cannot say 'he was just following orders' as if it absolves him of responsibility for his crimes. Decent men do not follow such orders."

"Perhaps you are right," she said quietly. "Perhaps he is not a decent man. But I believe he wants to become one." Robin scoffed, so she raised her voice. "Be as skeptical as you like, but you cannot just kill him here and now without giving him that chance."

"Why are you—" he began, but he broke off. He closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath in an obvious effort to master his emotions, and his tone was indeed a good deal calmer when he spoke again. "I understand. He protected you, and you feel you must repay him for that." His expression was full of bitter regret, as if he blamed himself for this debt she owed Guy because he hadn't been able to protect her himself. "Very well—I won't kill him now. But once the King returns, I _will_ see him hanged as the traitor he is."

"What would it take for you to change your mind about that?"

He raked a hand through his hair and cast his gaze around in an agitated fashion. Marian knew she was pushing it, but she didn't care. "I would need to see that he is genuinely repentant and willing to stop the Sheriff," he said, "but I won't be holding my breath, and you shouldn't either."

Resentfully and grudgingly as he had spoken the words, she recognized them as the truce they were. "Thank you, Robin. I will not stand in your way if he remains unrepentant, but for all our sakes, I hope it doesn't come to that."

—-—

The first thing Guy became aware of as the black fog receded from his mind was that nearly every inch of his body ached. For a moment, he was confused and disoriented—more so when he realized that he was bound, gagged, and blindfolded, but then pieces of his fight with Locksley started coming back to him. Locksley had been enraged the entire time, but Guy hadn't lost his head until close to the end.

_"Look at you now. You're just a common outlaw. House and lands lost. Do you think I don't laugh every time I go to sleep in your bed? And Marian, the woman you gave up, lost to me?"_

_ A moment before, Locksley's eyes had been full of hatred, but as he got to his feet, he chuckled. "You presume too much, Gisborne. You think that because she is forgiving enough to give you this chance to court her that you will succeed at winning her affections."_

_ Guy froze, his eyes narrowed and lip curled. "I should have known you still carried a torch for her," he sneered._

_ "Whether I do or not will have no impact on your chances. She would never love a traitor. Or were you planning to lie to her about that, even after she's told you only the truth?" Guy said nothing. Locksley had discovered his greatest fear, and there wasn't anything he could say to defend himself against it. "Take the coward's route, try to lie to her," Locksley went on. "She will not accept your denial over my word, and you can be sure that _I _will always tell her the truth."_

Guy had forgotten all about caution and strategy then, diving at his enemy, wanting nothing but to kill him with his bare hands. And, of course, that had been his downfall. It was the same tactic he'd been using against Locksley earlier, using words to provoke him so that he was too angry to fight with his head.

He could hear Marian's voice nearby, mingling with those of the outlaws. His immediate reaction was to feel angry at this proof that she consorted with Locksley and his men, but he quickly reminded himself that he already knew this, more or less. He could feel the recovered betrothal ring shift in the pocket of his trousers, and he strained to catch the words of the conversation, wondering dully if he was about to hear something that would reveal that Locksley wasn't the only one who still carried a torch.

"If you will not let me take him back to Locksley—which, I suppose, might look too suspicious anyway—and you will not simply release him to find his own way back, then you should trade him for Djaq. It's the safest way to retrieve her, surely."

"I agree," said one of the men, but Guy was deaf to the rest of the outlaws' replies. He knew Marian did not have feelings for him—not strong ones, at least. She could have taken this opportunity to stand back and let Locksley silence the potential threat Guy posed by knowing her secrets. Instead, she sought his release. He was surprised by a sudden feeling of warmth that stole through him in spite of his miserable situation. She trusted him. She did not want him dead. It was a start.

* * *

><p>I didn't notice until I rewatched the episode, but that party really was pretty lame. So Marian was basically channelling my own amusement over how clueless Guy is at party-hosting. Oh, and some nifty trivia about the betrothal ring. Amethysts symbolize piety and emeralds symbolize fidelity (also love, adoration, and devotion). Anyway, I hope you're all enjoying the story. Feedback is awesome. I haven't written anything past this chapter yet, so the updates are probably going to slow down, especially because my schoolwork is starting to pick up again as the semester progresses.<p> 


	5. Confession

HA! Got another chapter done. This one's set just after "Tattoo? What Tattoo?".

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><p>Chapter V: Confession<p>

Guy swallowed the groans of pain fighting to escape his throat as he held his right forearm under the surface of the Trent. Nothing remained of his tattoo, and very little remained of the skin on which it had been inked. Now it was simply an angry red mess of disfigured flesh. If the pain hadn't already been bad enough to make him vomit, then seeing the skin of his arm looking very like bubbling, melting wax would have done the trick.

What hellish substance had been in that vial? It was as if Vaisey had poured liquid fire on him. He'd seized the earliest possible opportunity to head for the river, the closest source of water to the tunnels in which the prisoner exchange had taken place.

He could still feel the ring in his pocket, and for a moment, he was seized by a powerful urge to fling it into the rushing water. The burgeoning hope that had risen in him earlier at the sound of Marian securing his safe release from the outlaws' custody was gone now, as if it had been burned away along with his tattoo. Hood had said he would tell Marian what he had done in the Holy Land. There was nothing Guy could do to prevent it. Deny it…? That would mean repaying her honesty with deceit, after she had trusted him with her life—with her father's life. And yet, the truth would cost him everything.

When he returned to Locksley Manor over an hour later, the searing pain in his arm reduced to a slightly less agonizing throb (though still painful enough to eclipse the aches from all the injuries he'd sustained in the fight against Hood), he was surprised to find Marian inside. She was standing behind the table that had held the food platters during the party that morning. Several green, leafy plants that had been chopped into small pieces and arranged into a neat pile rested on the wooden surface, and she was busily grinding up some of them with a mortar and pestle. Thornton came into the room a few seconds after Guy, carrying a tray containing a pitcher, a small sack of flour, a large ceramic bowl, and several white cloths.

Guy continued to watch in astonishment as Thornton set the tray on the table near the mortar and pestle, and the old man finally spotted him when he turned to walk back out of the room. "Welcome home, sir," he said with a slight bow.

At his words, Marian jumped and looked around, but quickly recovered her poise. "Thank you, Thornton, that will be all," she said. The elderly servant bowed again and left, casting a nervous glance in Guy's direction on his way out, but Guy was barely aware of it, as he only had eyes for Marian. She had spoken with authority, as if she were mistress of the manor, and she looked quite at ease toiling away in his home. It was the most enchanting thing he had ever seen, and it left him temporarily speechless. He could see her as Lady Gisborne, welcoming him home with a smile and a kiss, holding a baby that resembled both of them in her arms.

But it would never be. The familiar vision shattered and vanished, leaving Guy alone in the great room of Locksley manor with Marian, who continued to mash the plants, but also regarded him with an expectant and slightly confused look. Hood must not have told her yet, then. She wouldn't have been here at all if he had, and certainly wouldn't be looking at Guy with an expression so devoid of hostility.

"What brings you to Locksley, my lady?" he asked.

Marian raised her eyebrows at him in incredulous amusement. "I saw the state in which you and Robin left each other. I thought you might want someone to help patch you up." She waved a hand at the objects on the table.

"And have you already patched him up as well?" The question was torn from his lips by his bitterness, and he had scarcely spoken the words before he wished he could reach out and snatch them back. She would leave soon enough; did he have to chase her away before she even knew the most damning facts of his past?

Marian, however, had come to Locksley fully expecting that Guy would arrive in the worst of moods, so it would take more than a few thoughtless words to drive her off. Pursing her lips and applying the pestle to the mortar's contents perhaps a little harder than was necessary, she said, "I'm sure his men will provide whatever assistance he requires. It's his fault any of it happened; he shouldn't have come here this morning during the party in the first place."

"Then you do not approve of what he did."

"Of course I don't. He was merely stirring up trouble for the sake of it. You were hurting no one with your party, and he helped no one by ruining it."

"What herb is that?" he asked, walking closer to the table to get a better look at it.

"Comfrey. It's excellent for poultices. We grow it at Knighton in the kitchen garden." She dumped the pulpy green contents of the mortar into the ceramic bowl, then refilled it with more of the chopped leaves and began grinding again. "I'll need to have a look at your injuries," she said.

"I've had worse," he said petulantly.

Marian caught him trying to hide a wince as he said this and rolled her eyes. "Take off your surcoat and shirt, and have a seat there," she said imperiously, pointing at a chair next to the table. He looked somewhat bewildered, but promptly obeyed. Just like at the party, she had to hold back her laughter. He could be so much like a surly little boy at times, and it was really quite endearing. But then his shirt was off, and the ability to compare him to a boy abruptly deserted her. Her hands suddenly became rather clumsy with the mortar and pestle. She swallowed hard and forced herself to look away before he could catch her staring.

He seemed content to sit in brooding silence, and after a minute or so, she felt brave enough to look at him again to check for signs of injury. There were several bruises darkening here and there on his skin, but her attention was caught by the one on his left side, which was so large that her entire hand could not have covered the whole of it. "That will need a poultice," she said, dumping the second mortarful of mashed comfrey into the bowl, "but first I'll have to check for broken ribs."

"You have experience with this," he said.

She chuckled ruefully. "When you spend as much time as I do running around disguised as a man with a price on his head, you tend to become very good at treating wounds."

"Like the one I gave you, you mean."

She frowned. "I thought we'd agreed to forget about that. It was nothing, it has healed, and I already forgave you. Now, I've never treated broken ribs before, but I remember what was done for mine."

"When have you had broken ribs?" asked Guy, sounding alarmed. "It wasn't from one of the guards, was—"

"No!" she interrupted. She couldn't let him get it into his head that being the Nightwatchman had ever been _that_ dangerous for her. "No, it happened when I was a girl. A bird flew up and spooked my horse, and I was thrown from the saddle." She gestured at the bruise. "May I?"

He nodded, and she moved closer and reached out to gently prod with her fingertips. He clenched his jaw and fists convulsively, and she drew back. "Did I hurt you?" she asked, worried.

"No," he said, teeth still gritted.

"If you're sure," she said hesitantly. He closed his eyes and nodded, nostrils flaring. "Very well." She resumed her careful study of the bruised area, watching him closely for signs of pain while she felt for any uneven or jagged places along his ribs. He sat rigidly still the entire time she did this—so still that he didn't even seem to be breathing. When she had finished and moved away, he exhaled audibly and a great deal of the tension left his body. For some reason, she felt herself blush.

"None of them are broken," she said quickly, trying to cover her discomfort. She looked down and saw that her hands were trembling. Her breathing was also shallower than usual. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to come here after all. She had meant it as a gesture of her continued goodwill, a sign that she would be on Guy's side not only when he did right, but also when he'd been wronged. She was sure he had it in him to change, but he wasn't likely to do it on his own—not as long as the Sheriff remained the devil on his shoulder.

She busied herself adding water and flour to the mashed comfrey in the bowl, then mixed it all together with her hands. Once she was finished, she scooped some of it out onto one of the white cloths, folded it up, and brought it over to Guy. "Hold this against that bruise," she instructed. He did so, and for the first time, she noticed the strip of black cloth tied rather clumsily around his right forearm.

"Is something wrong with your arm?" she said as she secured the poultice in place by tying a long piece of linen around his torso.

He looked like he wanted to say no, but ultimately held the arm out for her to inspect it. She untied the black cloth, which she recognized as being of the same material as the shirt he'd been wearing. He hissed the air through his teeth as the cloth fell away, and Marian clapped a hand to her mouth. She'd never seen human flesh in such a state before. "Who did this to you?" she asked, feeling rather ill. She knew it couldn't have been Robin—that was the same spot on Guy's arm that had previously sported the wolf's head tattoo Robin had pointed out to her in the forest, and there had been nothing wrong with it then.

"Vaisey," he said.

Rage leapt up inside her, and she stamped her foot. "This is how he treats you?" she half shouted. "You do everything he asks and yet he still mutilates you like this?" She laughed angrily and went on, "And he didn't even want to make the exchange today at all. Did you know? He valued whatever Robin's Saracen friend had more than he values your life!" She caught sight of Guy's expression and literally had to bite her tongue to stop herself from demanding why he worked for Vaisey if his loyal service was repaid with such contempt and brutality. She wasn't worried that the question would anger him, as she'd been during their ride in the forest, but he looked as if he was already asking himself that question and didn't need her to ask it as well.

With a huge effort, she forced herself to calm down and worked out some of her agitation by making another poultice. When it was ready, she sat down on the stool next to his chair and very carefully applied it to the grisly wound on his arm. He hissed again, but then some of the pain on his face cleared as the comfrey's soothing properties began to take effect. "Thank you," he said.

Now that she had regained her composure, she was able to think more clearly. She remembered what Robin had said about Guy's tattoo. Why would Vaisey have destroyed it? Unless… But she didn't want to think about that. "You'll need to keep these poultices on that as much as possible until the danger of infection has passed," she said, getting to her feet. "I can keep making them for you as long as you need—"

"Marian," he said heavily, catching her hands in his and tugging slightly so that she sat back down on the stool. He looked at her so intently that she wanted to pull back. "Did Hood say anything to you…?"

Her brow furrowed. "About what?"

He dropped his head with a groan. He seemed to be undergoing some violent internal struggle. When he straightened, he kept his eyes on their hands rather than her face. "Do you still wish to be my confidant?"

"I do," she said, sitting up straighter and gripping his fingers with her own.

"Do you recall when I was ill last year?"

"It would be difficult to forget. You were ill for months."

Guy grimaced. "I wasn't."

"What do you mean?" Marian's heart was sinking. She knew where this was headed. She'd clung to a tiny sliver of hope that Robin might have been mistaken, but apparently it really was true. Still, in the midst of her disappointment, she felt a glow of warmth that Guy was actually telling her himself, of his own free will. She had planned to question him about Robin's accusation eventually, but now that would be unnecessary.

"I was never ill," he said. "That was a deception arranged by Vaisey to conceal my absence."

"Where were you, if not in Nottinghamshire?"

"I went to the Holy Land."

She said nothing, waiting for the final confession. Guy looked up at her briefly and seemed to realize that she was not going to speak, because a second later, he took a deep breath and said, "Vaisey sent me there to kill the King. I dressed as a Saracen, paid a few Saracen mercenaries to accompany me, and went to King Richard's camp to kill him while he and his guard were asleep."

Marian thought she'd been prepared for this, but actually hearing it from his lips was still a shock. "But you failed," she said once she recovered her voice, searching his face for some sign of how he felt about what he'd done.

"Though I'd wounded him a moment earlier, Robin Hood stopped me before I could strike the killing blow." Perhaps it was Marian's imagination, but she thought she heard a trace of relief in his tone. It was gone when he spoke again, sounding both bitter and dejected. "Now you know the truth. You need not stay to tend the wounds of a traitor."

As much as she hated what Guy had done, she couldn't help the small pang of sympathy she felt for him. "I have a confession to make," she said, looking down at their joined hands and pulling hers away. "I have misled you."

"How?"

"Much came and got me when he feared Robin would torture you. He brought me to their camp. You were unconscious, and Robin told me what you did in the Holy Land. He showed me your tattoo, with the scar through it where he cut you while defending the King." She touched the poultice. "I suppose that's why Vaisey did that to your arm. To destroy the evidence." Her stomach churned again at the thought.

Guy stared at her in wonder. "Then you knew?" he said. "Even when you argued for my release? You could have stepped aside and let Hood kill me, as he wanted to."

"Robin told me, but I hoped he was wrong. I tried to convince myself that the tattoo was a coincidence and that you really had been ill."

"And if you had believed him from the first?" he asked, fixing her with a grim, searching look, as if he expected her to sentence him to death.

"I wouldn't have wanted him to kill you, regardless. You are not just that one act, Guy." She paused, struggling to collect her thoughts. "I—this is worse than anything I could have—" She broke off, shaking her head. "But still, I cannot believe that it cancels out the goodness I have seen in you. I do not know if the law can forgive such a crime, but if you truly are a changed man, then…" Her voice trailed away, but it was plain that he understood, for she caught a brief glimpse of the sudden brightness in his eyes before he turned his head away.

For a moment, Guy was too overwhelmed to speak. He felt an urge to laugh that was just as strong as the urge to weep. He had been so certain that once she knew, she'd want nothing more to do with him, and yet she was still here! As though he now had permission to dwell on it, his mind went back to the gentle touch of her fingers when she'd checked his bruises. She'd thought, in her innocence, that she'd caused him pain. He'd assured her that she hadn't, but it wasn't entirely true; he'd felt as if a fire had ignited just beneath his skin, burning him in an entirely different way than Vaisey's evil liquid.

Shaking off these thoughts, he reached into the pocket of his trousers and withdrew the betrothal ring Hood had stolen off her finger. "I got it back," he said, meeting her eyes again. "Will you wear it?"

Giving him a look that was simultaneously wary and warm, Marian nodded and held out her left hand so that he could slip the ring on.

* * *

><p>I had to do a lot of research on acid burns and poultices for this chapter. I learned a lot of fascinating stuff, such as that it's a very bad idea to look up pictures of what sulfuric acid does to human skin. That was the chemical Vaisey poured on Guy. Guy must have Wolverine-esque healing powers to not even have a scar from that later on. Well, that, or the makeup people were just lazy. :P<p> 


	6. Iron Ore and Old Friendships

Dang, it's been a while since I updated this. Sorry about that. I've got at least the next chapter, but possibly the next two, planned out rather thoroughly, so hopefully that will help speed up the process. Anyway, the first scene of this one is set right after the end of "Turk Flu" and the rest of the chapter is set between "Tattoo? What Tattoo?" and "A Thing or Two about Loyalty". Mostly behind-the-scenes stuff that will help give everything else better context. Enjoy!

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><p>Chapter VI: Iron Ore and Old Friendships<p>

Guy clanked his third tankard down and wiped the foam from his face with the back of his hand. "Another," he growled at the tavern keeper, shoving a couple of coins across the table at him. In a matter of seconds, he was resupplied with ale and kept drinking. Good Lord, but this had been a wretched day. First, a cave-in killing a handful of his best miners; then, Vaisey goading him to make an example of one of the men before abruptly sacking the rest to replace them with slaves; then, the slaves escaping; and finally, Robin Hood and his band of miscreants causing so much fire damage to the mine itself that several of the most iron-rich tunnels had entirely collapsed and the rest were either inaccessible or left in very poor condition.

As if that wasn't enough, there was Vaisey treating him like a simpleton or using him to vent his anger at every opportunity. Relieving him of responsibility over the mine one moment (as if the problems with it were his fault and not the result of Vaisey's own stinginess with the resources that would make it function properly) and then tossing it back to him when he decided the smoldering ruin was too much of a bother to deal with himself, enlisting his help to trap Robin Hood at the fair but being unwilling to let him keep his potential winnings, and blaming Guy when _his_ plan backfired and cost them the mine _and_ the silver arrow.

To cap it all, he'd made quite a prat of himself trying to talk to Marian. Even with her lovely long hair sheared off, she was still so beautiful that he found himself tongue-tied nearly every time he spoke to her. She had seemed to like the gift he brought her, though, no matter how he had botched the presentation of it. Not that she had actually _worn _it to the fair. Perhaps she had only pretended to like it.

He _had_ wounded the Nightwatchman, at least. It hadn't been much more than a scratch, unfortunately, but apparently even that was enough to send the masked coward running for the hills. The thought made him smirk into the rim of his tankard.

Just then, the tavern doors opened and a man walked in. He was of average height and build, with tan skin, black hair, and hazel eyes. Guy's eyes followed his progress, though he felt no real curiosity. The man sat down heavily at the table next to his and let the bulging pack slung over his back fall to the floor, then called for ale and bread, which he devoured within minutes. He was chewing his last bite of bread when he happened to look over at the black-clad man watching him from the next table, and then a broad smile lit his face. "Guy?" he said, standing up. "Guy of Gisborne, is that really you?"

Bemused at being on the receiving end of so jovial a greeting, Guy blinked and looked at the man more closely. He had to squint at him for a moment before his features came into focus. He obviously expected him to respond in kind, but Guy's mind was completely blank.

"Don't remember me? Perhaps a quick sparring match would jog your memory. I'd wager I can beat you this time."

Guy's eyes widened and he felt himself smiling incredulously. "Lambert! Never thought I'd see you again," he said, getting to his feet (somewhat unsteadily) and clapping the man on the shoulder—much to the astonishment of the other patrons, who had all fallen silent. His mind was awhirl with memories of all the hours he'd spent sparring with the blacksmith's son in the square between Gisborne and Locksley as a boy.

Guy's mother hadn't wanted to deny education to any children on the estate who wanted to learn, but Lambert, a younger son who had been apprenticed to the alchemist in Nottingham, had been the only boy with the interest and time to spare to take advantage of that generosity. He had attended Guy's lessons with his tutor, and despite their different stations, the two boys had discovered they had much in common—particularly an interest in swordsmanship. Those were lessons to which Lambert was not granted admittance, but Guy had shown him everything he learned anyway, and they would practice it together with a couple of sturdy branches they whittled to resemble swords.

Lambert and his family had moved away from Nottinghamshire when Guy was fourteen, so Guy's memory of their friendship was unsullied by Lambert's having had any part in his parents' deaths or his own banishment. As a result, he was truly happy to see him now. "And that's a wager I'll take," he said with a smirk, "having taught you everything you know about wielding a sword. What brings you back to Nottinghamshire?"

"Work, or the chance of it," said Lambert somewhat ruefully. He retrieved his pack and they both sat down at Guy's table. "I've been experimenting with a substance that will make me a fortune if I could just get the formula right, but I'm afraid I'll have to find someone who can sponsor the project—I've used up most of my own money already."

Guy signaled the tavern keeper to bring a fresh tankard for Lambert and passed over the coins to pay for it. "May your fortunes be better than mine," he said.

"What ill fortune could have befallen the lord of Gisborne Manor?" said Lambert with jocular skepticism as he accepted the tankard and raised it to Guy in thanks, but he faltered when he saw Guy's expression darken. "Forgive me, I didn't—"

"There's nothing to forgive." Guy looked away and crossed his arms. "You would have had no way of knowing."

"Knowing what?" said Lambert.

"I am not the lord of Gisborne Manor."

"Then your fath—"

"My father is dead, as is my mother. They died in the fire that burned Gisborne Manor to the ground when I was sixteen. I was blamed and banished. There has been no Gisborne for seventeen years."

Lambert seemed to be at a complete loss for words. After a few moments of heavy silence, he managed to murmur some vague expression of condolence and sympathy, to which Guy responded with a slight nod. They both drank on in silence. Half a tankard of ale later, Lambert frowned. "How came you to return to Nottinghamshire, then?"

"I had been in Lord Vaisey's employ for several years when he gained his position as Sheriff here," said Guy. "He installed me as steward of Locksley while Huntingdon was at war in the Holy Land. A few months ago, Huntingdon returned, but it only took him a few days to get himself outlawed, and—"

"Robin of Locksley, an outlaw?" Lambert cut in, surprised. "I know he got up to all sorts of tomfoolery when we were boys, but what'd he do to become an outlaw?"

Guy scowled and let out a sound somewhere between a grunt and a sigh. "He publicly defied the Sheriff, and has since committed a number of other offences. He thinks the law does not apply to him."

Lambert rolled his eyes. "That sounds like him."

"Indeed. Once he was outlawed, he was stripped of his lands and title, and I was granted lordship of Locksley. Conditionally, at least." The last three words came out rather bitterly. "But," he continued, not wanting to dwell on the distant past anymore, "as to my more recent ill fortune, Robin and his gang of outlaws destroyed the Locksley iron mines this afternoon—not that I was having much luck getting the workers to do their jobs before that."

To Guy's surprise and mild indignation, Lambert's face lit up. "I think you and I might be the solutions to each other's problems, my friend," he said.

"How so?"

"The substance I'm working on is a powder so flammable that when you ignite it in a confined space, it can shatter solid stone into rubble in an instant." He snapped his fingers for effect. Guy's eyes widened. "Used correctly—and very carefully," Lambert went on, "it could be just the thing you need to get your mines up and running—better than they ever were before."

Guy thought hard for a moment. "I'm not quite capable of funding any projects with my own money just now—after harvests are in, perhaps. But, as Master at Arms, I do have access to portions of the shire's armory budget."

"Armory," Lambert repeated, suddenly looking wary and alarmed. "Guy, I will not allow my black powder to be used as a weapon. If the money comes from the armory—"

"No, you misunderstand," said Guy, shaking his head. "If you're right about this, then investing in the black powder will enable me to bring in more iron ore, which is what the greater part of the armory budget is used to purchase anyway."

"I see," said Lambert. "But still, you must promise me that the black powder will not be used as a weapon."

"You have my word." Guy held out a hand for Lambert to shake. "When shall we get started, then?"

—-—

The Present (Eight Weeks Later)

Marian hummed to herself as she prepared new comfrey poultices for Guy, something she'd been doing every day for the last week. The first couple of days had been uncomfortable. She wasn't used to spending so much time with him alone, and no matter how determined she was to give him a chance to become a better man, it was very difficult to hold onto that resolution in light of his attempted assassination of King Richard. But, to his credit, he had not once tried to justify his actions, and the vulnerability he could never quite mask around her tugged at her heart. It was plain to her that he considered himself unworthy of her kindness because of what he'd done, and, ironically, no other attitude could have done more to encourage her to continue to extend it.

She knew there were likely several more difficult conversations ahead of them, but she wasn't in a hurry to get them all out of the way at once. Sometimes simple companionship was just as good for getting to know someone as soul-baring discussions.

Today, however, her plan to avoid any deeper subject matter than favorite foods and pastimes was forgotten when she saw Guy's men harassing a family of Locksley villagers on her way to the manor. She was too far away to make out what anyone was saying, but the guards were yelling as they roughed up a man while his wife held their two young boys back from trying to pull them away from him. Marian pressed her heels into Rhiannon's sides to urge her on, and didn't rein her in until she was practically on top of Guy's men, who scrambled away from their victim at once.

"Has this man wronged you somehow?" she asked, forcing her tone into cool politeness.

"We had a disagreement, milady," said the taller of the two. His voice was rough and unpleasant. "It's naught to trouble yourself with."

"No? Well, perhaps I'll trouble your lord with it."

The shorter man shrugged indifferently, and Marian felt her composure slipping. She turned away from them to incline her head at the family of villagers, who looked up at her in silent gratitude, and then nudged Rhiannon again and headed for the manor. By the time she reached it and swung down from the saddle, she had worked herself up into quite a foul mood, and she burst through the doors into the great room, where Guy was sitting poring over a few scrolls, without so much as knocking.

"Marian!" said Guy, leaping to his feet at the sight of her. His expression went quickly from one of poorly concealed delight to one of open alarm when he registered the hostility of hers. "Something troubles you."

"_Yes_, something troubles me," she said angrily, stalking farther into the room. "I just encountered two men in yellow and black surcoats bullying a harmless family of villagers, and they didn't seem to mind when I said I'd be informing you of it. Are they so accustomed to manhandling the people of Locksley on your orders that they are comfortable doing it for their own enjoyment as well?"

"Perhaps there was a disagreement."

"Oh yes, I'm sure the villagers disagree heartily with the mistreatment they receive."

Guy stiffened. "I see you are determined to believe I am an uncaring despot."

"I only believe what I have observed."

"Then your beliefs are quite incomplete, Marian," he said, his voice rather cold. He picked up one of the scrolls he'd been examining and held it out to her.

"What is this?" she asked, caught off-guard so much that some of the anger and indignation left her. He jerked his head, inviting her to read it for herself. She did so, but only became more confused. "Iron ore output projections? Black powder?" She looked up at him. "What does it mean?"

"It means I have commissioned a friend on a project that will, I hope, ensure the safety of my miners while increasing production tenfold."

It took a moment for the meaning of this to sink in, and when it did, Marian was left feeling contrite and somewhat ashamed. She couldn't look at Guy.

"I will have words with my men about what behavior is acceptable concerning the villagers," he said. "What you saw today will not happen again."

Marian closed her eyes, promising herself that this was the last time she would jump to the worst conclusions about this man. "Thank you," she muttered.

—-—

"You're sure you don't need to do any more tests first?" Guy asked, pacing restlessly in front of Locksley Manor. Everything had gone so smoothly with the black powder so far that it was making him nervous. With his luck, something had to go wrong.

"Oh, believe me, I've tested it thoroughly enough." Lambert patted the lid of a small barrel in a satisfied way. "It's ready for a proper demonstration, and if that goes off well—which it will, I'll clear it for you to use in the mines. I've got three barrels ready for you so far."

"Excellent. What do you require for the demonstration?"

"I already have everything I require, but if you want some of the men who'll be working with it in the mines to see it, you might invite them. It should be quite the spectacle, if there's anyone you'd like to invite for other reasons…." Here Lambert paused, smirking knowingly and nudging Guy with his elbow. "A certain lovely young lady, perhaps?"

Guy felt himself go red. He scowled and shoved Lambert away, but Lambert just laughed, and when the sound of hoof beats reached them a few seconds later, grinned broadly and said, "Speak of the devil." Guy's insides instantly seemed to twist into squirming knots. He whipped around to see Marian riding up to Locksley on her horse, looking especially beautiful today in a blue bliaut trimmed with gold. Things had greatly improved with her since their argument a week ago, but she had informed him the day before that his wounds had healed to the point that he would no longer have need of her poultices, so he hadn't expected her to come to Locksley today.

"That's my cue to be off, I think," said Lambert. Guy felt a brief, wild urge to beg him to stay, but he was already leaving, his gait irritatingly jaunty. Guy turned to face Marian again, forcing himself to breathe slowly and deeply. After all the time he'd spent with her lately, he would have thought that he'd be more master of himself around her, but no. She still made him feel like a green lad of fourteen.

Having reached the manor, she dismounted and handed the reins to one of Guy's servants, then walked over to him. Perhaps it had something to do with her relaxed, even cheerful expression (definitely not something he was used to seeing), but Guy found his panic ebbing away. "My lady," he said, still not quite as composed as he would like, taking her hand and kissing it.

"Was that your friend Lambert?" she asked, looking off at the man in question's retreating back. They had run into each other once or twice since Guy had informed her about their project.

"It was. He and I just settled the final details of the black powder project."

"Then it's finished?" she said, returning her full attention to Guy.

"The miners could be using it in the mines as early as tomorrow." Guy ran a hand through his hair and glanced in the direction Lambert had gone. His cheeks felt hot again. "We're, er, he'll be giving a demonstration in the morning. Would you like to come? I can assure you that you've never seen anything like this before."

"Sounds exciting," said Marian with a teasing smile that made Guy feel as if his legs would not support his weight. "But, I'll only come if you agree to join me for a picnic afterward, around midday?"

"Of course," Guy said at once. The Sheriff could do without his presence during his midday meal for one day. Even if he was angry, it would be worth it.

—-—

"Gisborne!"

Guy closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose. Ever since the burning of his tattoo, he had found it much harder than usual to tolerate Vaisey's abuses and demands. Praying for patience, he walked into the great hall of Nottingham Castle. "My lord?"

"Would you care to explain where the money in the armory budget has been going lately?"

Vaisey didn't look at Guy as he spoke, and he used that quiet, calm voice he reserved for when he was an inch away from ordering dire punishment on someone for failing him. "Have you hired new guards, perhaps? Paid for them to actually be trained? Bought them better armor or weapons, hmm? It had better be something like that, because if I find that you've been using my money to shower that peasant-loving leper of yours with gifts—"

"My lord—" Guy could not let him continue another moment. "I have invested the money in a project that will significantly improve the yields of the iron mines."

"Is that so?" said Vaisey, his skepticism that such an investment could be fruitful already obvious. "And what, pray tell, does this project entail? Sure you haven't been swindled by a charlatan, are you?"

"Lambert is no charlatan, my lord. He is an honest, hardworking man, and I have seen what his invention can do. If you have doubts, you may come to the demonstration tomorrow morning and see for yourself."

Vaisey fixed him with a flat, disdainful glare for a moment, then looked away again. "Very well. But for your sake, Gisborne, I hope I'm not going to find that my time and money have been wasted."

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><p>Please review; I'd be delighted to read your reactions to this chapter. :)<p> 


	7. Powder Kegs and Picnic Baskets

Wow, this semester has been crazy busy. Here, at last, is an update. Enjoy! (And review? Pretty please?)

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><p>Chapter VII: Powder Kegs and Picnic Baskets<p>

When Guy arrived at Knighton to escort Marian to the black powder demonstration, she was nowhere to be seen, and her stable boy was only halfway through saddling her horse. He hadn't realized how early it was when he'd left Locksley.

As Guy nudged his destrier forward to take a drink from the trough next to the stables, he noticed the young boy watching the horse with fascination. "Attend to your work, boy," he said sternly. "That mare needs to be ready as soon as the Lady Marian steps foot outside."

"Yes, milord," said the boy. He resumed adjusting the girth strap and stirrups at a much faster pace, though his gaze continued to drift to Guy's charger every few seconds.

"What did I just say about keeping your eyes on your work?" Guy barked as he swung a leg over and dismounted.

"I'm sorry, milord!" the boy squeaked, hastily doing as he was told.

Guy continued to watch him, frowning. Today, he and Lambert were going to astonish Vaisey with their project, and then he was having a picnic with Marian. It was going to be a very good day. Besides, the boy was actually doing quite a good job preparing Marian's horse, and it was no crime to look at such an impressive beast, so, on the whole, Guy suddenly found himself in an unusually indulgent mood. Consequently, when the boy resumed sneaking glances at his horse, he merely raised his eyebrows.

"I-I'm sorry!" the boy stammered again. "It's just, I've never seen a horse like this before, milord."

"He's a destrier," said Guy. "A knight's warhorse."

The boy, finished with Marian's horse now, had started to edge closer, his eyes shining with admiration. "Would it...would it be alright if I patted him on the head a bit?"

"I suppose that's up to him," said Guy, folding his arms. "He doesn't let just anyone near him, so be careful about it."

"Thank you, milord!" Despite his eagerness, the boy moved cautiously, raising a hand in front of him. Guy's horse pawed the ground nervously for a moment, but then stepped forward and pressed his nose into the boy's palm. "What's his name?"

"Vincent," said Guy, pronouncing the name as the French would.

The boy nodded and began to murmur soft words to the horse, who whinnied in reply and pressed even closer. Guy couldn't suppress a slight smile. After he and Marian were wed—if he ever became fortunate enough to reach that point—, he would have to see about getting this boy for Locksley's stables.

—-—

Refusing to examine her reasons for doing so, Marian put a greater effort into her preparations that morning than she usually did. Why shouldn't she wear her favorite gown (the crimson one with gold trim and embroidery) and take the time to make sure her hair fell just so over her shoulders if she wanted to?

By the time she was finally satisfied with her appearance, she feared that she was running late, but when she went out to see how Daniel was coming along with Rhiannon, she was surprised to find Daniel patting Guy's destrier on the nose while Guy stood with his back to a fence post and his arms crossed, looking at them with something that might have been fondness.

Guy wasn't facing her, so he didn't see her until she was almost right next to him. "What's going on here?" she asked with a smile.

"The boy's been making friends with Vincent," said Guy.

Marian's smile widened. "It was kind of you to let him," she said.

Guy looked slightly embarrassed, but quickly hid it under an air of gruffness. "Well, he has quite a talent with horses."

Daniel stepped forward then and gave Marian a bow. "Rhiannon is all ready for you, milady."

"Thank you, Daniel," she said. "Would you bring her to me?"

"Yes, milady," he said, and scampered over to where she was tethered.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long," said Marian ruefully, turning back to Guy.

"Not at all," he said. He took the hand she offered and kissed it. She expected him to let go, but he seemed frozen, his eyes locked on her face.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Oh," he said, his cheeks reddening slightly as he released her hand and dropped his gaze. "Forgive me; I find myself even more overwhelmed by how lovely you are this morning than usual."

Marian felt herself turning even redder than him. "Thank you," she managed, running a hand distractedly through her hair.

"Here you are, milady," said Daniel, having just returned with Rhiannon, who nickered happily and pushed her head at Marian's shoulder. Guy's stallion tossed his head and pawed at the ground with his front hooves in response to the mare's proximity. Marian gratefully took the reins from Daniel while Guy moved to soothe his horse, and they both mounted and were off.

"I think I might have a rival," Guy remarked once they were beyond Knighton.

Marian stiffened. "What do you mean?" she said.

"The stable boy, Daniel," said Guy. "He fancies you, you know."

"Oh dear," she said, relaxing. For a second, she'd thought he was talking about Robin. "Well, it wouldn't do to break the poor boy's heart at such a tender age." She gave an exaggerated sigh of regret. "I'm afraid I won't be able to continue with this betrothal after all."

"Is that so?" Guy smirked. "Well, do not suppose I will give you up as easily as that."

—-—

When they arrived at the demonstration site, it was to find several of the workers from the mines standing in a wide, haphazard sort of ring, at the center of which Lambert was rushing about, making sure everything was in order. Marian's attention was caught by the odd wooden structure that stood alone several yards from Lambert (but still well within the ring of onlookers). It seemed to be a cottage wall with a window in it, except that the rest of the cottage it belonged to was missing. "What is that?" she asked Guy, pointing.

"That," he said, "is what we will be standing behind when Lambert ignites the black powder."

"Why, is it dangerous?" she said.

"Lambert knows what he's doing," said Guy reassuringly. "The barrier is merely a precaution, since we'll be a bit closer than everyone else.

At the sound of galloping hooves, they turned to see the Sheriff approaching with his entourage. Marian's heart sank, and she saw Guy stiffen and his expression shutter. "You invited him?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"I had little choice," said Guy curtly. "He demanded to see what I've been doing with the gold in the armory budget lately." He left her side to go greet the man in question, but to Marian's surprise, he came right back after barely a minute.

Lambert, who had noticed none of this as he finished setting up, and who had never had the displeasure of the Sheriff's company before, clapped his hands and turned to his audience. "Well it's all set. Shall we begin, then?"

Guy nodded, and Lambert proceeded to give a brief explanation of the black powder and its purpose for the benefit of all present who hadn't been involved in the development process. To Marian's annoyance, the Sheriff yawned loudly and fidgeted the entire time Lambert was speaking, and he hadn't even dismounted from his horse.

Lambert picked up a small barrel and, beginning at a spot a couple of paces from the barrier, poured a thin line of black powder on the ground, stopping a fair distance away, where he left the barrel on its side.

"Please dismount, my lord," said Guy rather dryly. "There may be quite a bang."

"Really."

"And your horse is highly strung."

"It won't be the only highly strung creature if I'm made to hang around for much longer," the Sheriff grumbled, but he did finally dismount, using one of his guards as a stepstool. Ignoring him, Guy turned to Marian and ushered her over to the barrier with a hand on the small of her back. In spite of Vaisey's presence and attitude, Guy looked so eager and excited that it was quite infectious, and Marian couldn't help exchanging smiles with him before they both turned to look at Lambert again.

With flint and steel, Lambert struck fire to the end of the powder trail. Marian jumped and gasped when it ignited so violently that it threw sparks into the air. The flames then raced down the line of powder towards the barrel at an alarming speed. "Just wait, the best part is still coming," said Guy. "Oh, and you'll want to cover your ears."

Marian shot him a fleeting glance and did as he advised. A second later, the fire reached the barrel, which immediately burst with the sound of a particularly deafening thunderclap in an enormous plume of flame and smoke, sending debris in every direction. Marian felt the scorching heat of it pass over her in one disorienting instant, and the shockwave nearly knocked her backward even from her position behind the barrier.

"Well done, my friend," Guy called, rising back to a standing position. Marian followed his example, staring at him with wide eyes. For all he and Lambert had said about the black powder, she could never have imagined this. Guy's eyes were alight with a kind of boyish glee she had never seen in them before.

"What did you think?" he asked. His voice sounded oddly muffled. Realizing that her hands were still clamped tightly around her ears, Marian lowered them.

"That was amazing!" she said. She felt the sudden urge to reach for his hand, but before she could manage it, Vaisey's voice intruded.

"Well done, Gisborne!" he said jubilantly, making Marian jump and Guy look around. Neither of them had realized that he had taken cover behind the barrier at the last second. As the smoke cleared, he emerged to inspect the crater left by the explosion. "Get me ten or twenty large, huge crates! Haha!"

Marian watched from behind the barrier as Guy and Lambert went out to meet Vaisey, who had turned to face them. There was glee in his eyes too, but unlike Guy's childlike delight, his made it look as if a demon were leering out through human features.

Lambert looked uncomfortable. "If I am to create more black powder, then there are conditions," he said.

"Really?" said Vaisey. He was still smiling, but there was a threat to it, and Marian saw Guy shoot a warning glare at Lambert. This made no impression.

"One, I'm allowed to sell my discovery to other mining concerns."

"Naturally," said Vaisey.

"Two, I get a bonus for me work."

"Of course."

"And finally," Lambert paused briefly, seeing Guy's glare, but went on anyway, "this powder must never be used as a weapon."

"Ah," said Vaisey, clambering out of the crater and closing in on Lambert in a way that made Marian think of a bird of prey. The guards circled around as well, hands on the hilts of their swords. "I think you and I have a future. Trust me."

Lambert was obviously going to bolt. "No," he said, taking a step back.

"Lambert," Guy growled.

Despite the mounting pressure, Lambert would not yield. When Sheriff's men continued to close in, he whipped out a short, thick rod and threw it on the ground at their feet. This caused a second, smaller explosion, which knocked the guards off their feet. Not wasting a single moment, Lambert bolted for the forest, a livid Vaisey and the few guards who'd been smart (or cowardly) enough to hang back before in hot pursuit.

Marian ran forward and caught Guy by the arm before he could follow. "Must you go after him too, Guy?" she said pleadingly.

"He has brought this on himself," said Guy. His expression was hard and forbidding, though something else—perhaps regret—shone through when he briefly met her eyes. Before she could be sure she hadn't imagined it, he had pulled his arm away and run to join the chase.

—-—

Guy excused himself from Vaisey's presence the first chance he got. He hated that he had allowed his anger and frustration to show enough for Vaisey to notice it, but his self control was far too weak now to endure the man's company much longer without saying or doing something he would sorely regret later. He strode out of the castle into the courtyard, where he kicked a bench over in temper.

"Guy!"

He turned to se Marian approaching, a basket under one arm and a concerned expression on her face. "The picnic," he said, the memory of their plans coming back to him. Some of his anger gave way as his heart sank.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked, looking at him with a brow furrowed in concern.

Guy shook his head, eyes downcast. "I think it would be best if we did this some other time. I fear I will not be good company today."

"Rubbish," she said. "Whatever is troubling you, I'm sure an hour or two away from Nottingham will do you good." She looped the arm not clutching the basket through one of his and began to march him towards the castle stables.

With the warmth of her arm around his, Guy almost had to make a conscious effort to hold on to all his bitter feelings. _This woman_, he thought_, What is she doing to me?_

—-—

Robin, Allan, Will, Djaq, and Little John were all crouching in the ditch just outside Nottingham Castle, debating whether it had been long enough since Much had gone in for them to go in and rescue him. Robin was about to offer his own suggestion when he was distracted by the sight of Marian riding out of the gates with Gisborne. Robin's teeth and fists clenched. When they rode over the ditch, he heard Gisborne say, "So, where are we going?"

"There's a perfect spot just where Knighton borders Sherwood," said Marian. "I thought we might go there."

Robin began to clamber out of the ditch, fully intending to follow. He knew that spot. It was the place where he and Marian used to go together. The thought of her taking _Gisborne_ there made him feel both furious and ill.

"Robin!" Djaq hissed, while Little John caught him by the arm.

Robin snapped out of his daze and looked around at his men, the reason they were there coming back to him.

—-—

Guy was extremely quiet for the ride to Knighton, and stayed that way until he and Marian had nearly finished eating their fill of the food she had packed for them. She watched him staring morosely off into the trees in front of them for as long as she could stand. "Will you not tell me what troubles you?" she prompted gently.

"Where to begin?" said Guy with a sardonic sort of resignation.

"I don't have anything else planned for the rest of the day," Marian said, trying to catch his eye so that he could see her smile. When she failed, she reached over to touch his arm. "Tell me."

Guy let out a long breath and reached for the hand on his arm. He rubbed his thumb over her betrothal ring for a moment, before finally speaking. "Lambert and I worked on that black powder for the better part of two months. Now he is in the dungeons being tortured for the location of the ledger with his formula, and the Sheriff has taken the project entirely out of my hands. Yet another victory taken away. And meanwhile, instead of hanging the outlaw we captured an hour ago, as his crimes merit, the Sheriff has made him an earl." He let out a noise of disgust. "Lord Much of Bonchurch, indeed."

Marian chose to ignore that last part. "Is there nothing you can do for Lambert?" she said.

"Not as long as he refuses to tell Vaisey where he hid the ledger," said Guy dully.

"Then you would have him surrender it? Do you really believe that a man like Vaisey should possess such knowledge?"

"What I believe is not important."

"But it is!" Marian cried, with enough anger that Guy met her eyes at last. "You pretend it is not so that you can feel as if you have no choice, but you always have a choice!"

"What choice, Marian?" he demanded. "What would you have me do?"

"Take matters into your own hands! Lambert is your friend; does he not deserve your loyalty? Or is that something you only offer conditionally?"

Guy grimaced. "He has defied the Sheriff—"

"So have I!" she interrupted. "You protected me!"

"By becoming betrothed to you," he retorted. "I cannot very well do the same for Lambert, now, can I?"

"But you could get him out of the castle," said Marian. "If you took him to Kirklees—"

"And how am I to accomplish that? Ask the Sheriff to look the other way for a few minutes?"

Marian leveled a flat glare at him, which put an end to his sarcasm. She thought hard for a moment. "You could do it during the council of nobles tomorrow. The Sheriff will be busy."

"Even if I succeed, the Sheriff will be furious. I have already lost leverage with him today; this is not a risk I can afford to take."

Marian faltered. A second later she realized what the only option was. "Then you will have to convince Lambert to give you the ledger. That will be enough leverage for both of you."

Guy looked at her hard. "Why would you propose a plan that ends with the ledger in Vaisey's hands?"

"Because he has the advantage. Thwarting him now would require too heavy a price."

He continued to watch her, and she picked up another apple for something to do. It was Guy. Guy was the price that was too heavy. It surprised her to realize that compromising him was no longer something she was willing to do, but she could not say, even to herself, whether she was making this concession merely to protect him as the devil she knew or because she was truly concerned for his well-being.

—-—

The earliest chance he got, Guy made his way to see Lambert in the dungeons, dismissing the guards along the way. He felt a pang at the sight of his friend in such a condition. Both of his legs were clearly broken, and he was covered in cuts and bruises, his ragged clothing soaked in blood. He met Guy's eyes with a look of fear underneath the pain and exhaustion.

Guy cleared his throat. "Lambert," he said.

Lambert shook his head feebly. "How could you let them do this to me, Guy?" he croaked. "I thought we were friends."

"I'm sorry," said Guy. "You must believe me when I say that this isn't what I wanted. You should be out there enjoying your commission, and I should be overseeing your creation being put to good use in the mines. I tried to persuade the Sheriff not to do this, but he wouldn't listen."

"How can you work for such a man? The Guy I knew when we were boys was kind and loyal. He was the sort of nobleman's son who would go behind everyone's backs to teach swordplay to a commoner."

"That Guy had a family and an inheritance," said Guy harshly. "Until he lost it all in a single day. To get even part of that back, I've had to do things I'm not proud of, but I will not turn back now."

The look in Lambert's eyes changed to something like contempt. "Then why are you here?" he said.

"Because I have a plan to get you to safety. I know the Sheriff well; he will kill you for your defiance, whether or not you tell him where the ledger is. If you can hold out until morning, I'll be able to take you to Kirklees abbey while the Sheriff is at the council of nobles. Once you're there, he will have no power to harm you."

"And what do I have to do for you in exchange?" said Lambert.

"Nothing." Guy paused, holding Lambert's suspicious stare. "But know that if I return to this castle empty-handed tomorrow, then it will be me in that cell next. I'm doing this to spare your life. The only way to spare mine would be to hand over the ledger." With that, he turned and left the dungeon.

—-—

That evening, after having supper with her father, Marian went up to her chambers and found Robin waiting for her.

"So," he said, "you and Gisborne have a plan, do you?"

"You were eavesdropping on us!" she said, outraged. "Again!"

"You're going to let the Sheriff get that ledger," said Robin, his tone stiff and his eyes cold.

"Yes, but I'm not going to let him keep it," said Marian.

"Isn't that a bit risky?"

"This coming from a man who hasn't done anything risky in his life," she said, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. "Do you have an alternative, then?"

"I do. Sneak into the dungeons and get Lambert out before he breaks."

Marian shook her head. "The Sheriff has been torturing him all day. If he's going to get out of that dungeon, it won't be on his own two legs."

"Then I'll get him to tell me where the ledger is so that he can tell the Sheriff he know longer knows its location."

"And you think he would just let him go after that?" she scoffed. "You know full well that Lambert's knowledge of the ledger's location is the only thing that makes him valuable to the Sheriff. Take that away from him and you might as well kill him yourself."

"Whereas if you let the Sheriff get his hands on the ledger, you might as well be setting black powder to the entire shire. Is one man's life worth that much to you?"

"Lambert shouldn't have to die for this!"

"I wasn't talking about Lambert, Marian."


End file.
